


Unknown Son

by Phantomdragon321, TheAngelofFate



Series: noticed there was a lack in Oscar & Ozpin stories so I decided to rectify that [17]
Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Co-Written, Developing Friendships, Divorce, Domestic Violence, F/M, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Illustrated, Men Crying, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Salem and Ozma's (Ozpin's) daughters have names in this, Salem being her usual bitchy self, Scars, Swearing, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:13:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 80,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28445217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phantomdragon321/pseuds/Phantomdragon321, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAngelofFate/pseuds/TheAngelofFate
Summary: They say that life has a way of forcing you in the right direction. They say that sometimes you go through hardships in order to find the only thing that made you happy. But most weren't so lucky and Ozpin definitely fit the bill.In which Ozpin loses everything he's ever loved after his marriage with Salem turns into a divorce that he never had the hope of winning. He can do nothing else but throw himself into his work.Until a young boy suddenly pops up at his school and starts attending classes.
Relationships: Glynda Goodwitch/Ozpin, Ozpin & Oscar Pine
Series: noticed there was a lack in Oscar & Ozpin stories so I decided to rectify that [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1552897
Comments: 98
Kudos: 139





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a husband and wife fall out of love

Ozpin remembered the good times.

When he got too overwhelmed by her, he remembered the wedding.

The ink black dress she wore and his pure white suit. How she’d felt in his arms. The press of her mouth against his.

Ozpin started getting lost thinking about that mouth recently. Not in the youthful sort of way that he used to think about, though. Not in the ‘ _I’d love to kiss her right now_ ’ type of way.

He instead remembered the painful things that came out of that mouth. The things she told him behind closed doors, when they thought their daughters were asleep.

But Ozpin always heard Iclyn’s scurrying feet going down the hallway when he finally decided to leave the room. She was young, but he was pretty sure she knew what was happening…

He and Salem had loved each other once. He was aware of that fact.

But now, they couldn’t seem to stand each other.

They’re tempers grew short.

Any tiny thing, no matter how minuscule, seemed to send them at each other’s throats for hours.

Now recently, it had been Salem who couldn’t seem to stand the sound of his voice. No matter what he did, or said, even when his voice was calm and collected, he always managed to set her off.

A butter tin placed on the wrong shelf. Coming home five minutes late and missing dinner. A misplaced remote. 

Today’s trigger seemed to be burnt eggs. 

“Did you butter the pan? That might be the reason why—”

A loud _bang_ sounded out as Salem slammed down the spatula, causing their youngest daughter of two year to start wailing, and turned to him, snapping, “Does _everything_ with you have to be a lecture, Oz?”

Ozpin pushed down his shock and chose to keep a level head. While he attempted to calm Primrose down. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Salem shot him a look of disbelief, glancing at her watch. “I have to go. Finish this for me.”

And just like that, she was gone from the kitchen and out the door.

She didn’t come home until late that night.

Leaving Ozpin the task of making dinner and putting the girls to bed.

There was a time, so many times, when she used to come home and he’d felt _elated_. He’d ran to her with open arms and kissed her face, laughing into her neck. 

Now...

Now he didn’t even want to make eye contact with her.

They didn’t say a word to each other as they got ready for bed.

When it was dark, and they’d been lying in silent stillness for about an hour, Ozpin pipped up softly, “Do you hate me?”

Salem didn’t say anything at first. For a second, he wondered if she’d gone to sleep.

“I don’t know.”

Ozpin took in a deep breath, gathering his courage. “But you don’t love me.”

It wasn’t a question.

Another beat of silence. A sigh. “Go to bed, Ozpin.”

Instead, Ozpin sat up, reaching over to turn on the lamp. “You know you can talk to me, Salem. I’d just like to be able to work this out—”

“There’s nothing to work out,” Salem cut in, still without turning to look at him. “Everything is _fine_.”

“Then why are you mad at me?”

The silence was deafening, it echoed around the darkened room

“I want you to go away.”

Ozpin couldn’t help the hurt he felt in his chest. “Salem—”

“ _Now_.”

Ozpin sighed and got up, walking out of the room. _That’s fine._ He didn’t really want to be around her, either.

* * *

“I thought you said you were quitting.”

Ozpin hummed, blowing smoke from his mouth. “I did. This is just…” He stopped and tried to find that right words, “I needed to think.”

Salem shook her head and continued towards the car, muttering, “You’re _hopeless_.”

“It’s just _one_ cigarette.”

Salem abruptly stopped and turned back to him. “You’re setting a bad example for the girls.”

He gave her an incredulous look, “Really? You mean the girls who are currently off at _daycare_ right now? The ones that really can’t comprehend something like that at the ages of two, four, five and seven? _Those_ girls?”

Salem stepped closer to him. “ _Give_ me the box, Oz.”

Ozpin furrowed his brows. And after several _long_ beats, of them just standing there, staring at each other, he gave in, if only just because he didn’t have the energy for another fight. Especially not out here on the lawn, right in front of the neighbors. He reached into his pocket and handed her the box of cigarettes.

“No more of _this_. I won’t have it. Not under _my_ roof.”

He adjusted his glasses, his tone deadpanned and flat, “I hate to say this, but I help pay the bills, too. That makes it _our_ roof. Of which, technically, we’re not even standing under right now.”

A contemplative expression crossed her face, then a small frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. “I’m just trying to be a good _wife_ and make sure _my_ husband stays in good health. That’s all.”

“My health is—”

“ _Besides,_ ” She plucked the cigarette from his fingers and dropped it onto the pavement, putting it out beneath her shoe. “I know you’re strong enough to kill this bad habit of yours, Oz. Aren’t you? For _me_? For the _girls_?”

“Well… I—”

“ _Good._ We’re in agreement then.”

She turned and continued toward the car, taking the box of cigarettes with her.

* * *

It was another long and _exhausting_ argument.

Ozpin couldn’t even remember what had set it off this time.

They weren’t even the type of people to scream and curse at each other. Their arguments felt scarier than that, like some intense battle of intelligence that Ozpin always seemed to lose.

Because Salem was _always_ the one who was right. _Salem’s_ word was law. He had no say in anything he did, she always had to know _what_ he was doing, _where_ he was going. 

How could he even begin to defend himself, when she was telling him how awful he was. A bad husband _this_ , a horrible father _that—_

How lazy and arrogant he really was and how he refused to admit it, that his pathetic teaching career was _nothing_ compared to what she had to put up with in court —so _why_ was he even complaining—? and that he was not at all the man she thought she had married.

Ozpin never won these fights. He never won them because some part of him felt that she was right.

It was another night of arguing, he’d done something _again_ that Salem had disapproved of — _God_ he couldn’t even _remember_ now his head felt so filled with static. And this time he couldn’t _take_ it anymore. Being backed into a corner like a pathetic rodent one too many times had finally driven him over the edge.

He cut into her ranting, saying quietly and quickly—so as to get it out of the way, like ripping off like a band aid—

“I want a divorce.”

Salem’s face morphed into something like shock. She seemed frozen like that for a moment, before the expression melted into fury.

Her hand was a blur in the air, and all of a sudden, his cheek was on fire.

“ _YOU DON’T GET TO SAY THAT TO ME!”_ She screamed at him for the first time in ever. Never since they started to drift apart has she ever _ever_ screamed at him. 

She came closer, pushing him further into that corner, until he was crushing himself between the two walls just to try to get further away from her. “Do you hear me?! You don’t _get_ to say that! Who are you _without_ me?! You’re pathetic is all you are! You’re a _coward_ — _LOOK AT ME!_ ”

She grabbed his face, her nails digging into his jaw. Ozpin reluctantly held her gaze.

“You are _nothing_ without me,” She hissed, spitting in his face. “I’ve given you _everything._ A house, four beautiful daughters, food on the table. So you _don’t_ get to say that word. Not to me. _Don’t you dare_. Do you understand?”

Ozpin didn’t so much as twitch. He didn’t know what to _say._ Would she hit him again if he said the wrong thing?

It didn’t hurt—not completely, _physically_ speaking. But it hurt on a different level.

She released him and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Ozpin stayed standing in that corner, touching his stinging cheek.

He _tried_ to remember the good times instead, but—

They felt stained and distant in his mind.

* * *

Ozpin didn’t usually come to bars, but Qrow and Ironwood had insisted and, truthfully, he didn’t really want to go home just yet.

He didn’t want to face the inevitable argument. Salem screamed now. He could still hear the volume of her voice, the last argument they had, could still feel the spit on his face, how his ears rang _long_ after he was finally alone. He couldn’t take the screaming, or what usually came after.

He tugged down on his sleeve to keep the newest injury concealed. He didn’t want his friends to see it—didn’t want them to _ask_ , because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to answer truthfully.

Unfortunately, they got on the topic of Salem after a casual mention of love lives. And he couldn’t keep his secret for long. Ironwood and Qrow knew him better than anybody, so of course they’d notice.

It started with them going on about who they’ve dated and crazy exes and the like. After a particularly dramatic retelling of his previous girlfriend, Qrow elbowed him and said, “Not all of us are lucky enough to find _The One_ that easily, right, Oz?”

Ozpin hummed into his drink, daring not to say something he’d regret later.

Both Ironwood and Qrow picked up on this.

“What’s the matter, Oz?” Ironwood inquired softly stirring his drink.

Qrow let out a low laugh, “Yeah, what’s that depressed face for?”

“I’m _not_ depressed,” Ozpin muttered lamely,

“Uh-huh…” Qrow didn’t at all seem convinced as he leaned forward. “C’mon. Trouble with the wife? We won’t judge! Has there been a lack of spice in the bedroom recently? I find that the best way to solve that is—!”

“Please, _don’t_ ,” Ozpin cut in, a lot sharper than he meant to.

Qrow raised a brow, face completely serious now. “Alright, now I _know_ something’s wrong. _Spill_.” 

Oz shook his head, “It’s nothing. We just had… an argument… _A lot_ of arguments.”

“Bout what?”

Ozpin felt his whole world start to crumble, and guilt seize his chest. He couldn’t lie to Ironwood and Qrow. He just... _couldn’t_ find it in his heart to do that. He scrambled for the right words. “She probably hates me now… I wouldn’t blame her if she did… I…” He shook his head, taking a deep breath. “I told her… I wanted a divorce…”

The air abruptly felt _heavy_ , so heavy Oz found that he could hardly breathe.

All of a sudden, a million questions were being thrown his direction.

Ozpin answered to the best of his ability. Some of them he honestly didn’t know the answers to: _what_ had started this, why _now_ after all these years, are the _girls_ doing okay, why did he think she was angry with him to start with?

Eventually, the final truth came out: “But I’m angry with her, too, even though I shouldn’t be. I mean, I probably deserve it.”

“Deserve _what_?” Both of his friends asked in unison 

Ozpin lowered his head, furrowing his brows. “It doesn’t hurt. I should be stronger than that—for the girls, for her—”

“She _hit_ you?” Qrow asked, his voice laced with a seriousness that Ozpin rarely ever heard.

“It doesn’t hurt, not like—”

Ironwood’s expression looked just as serious as Qrow’s, “Not like _what_? Are you saying this has happened more than _once_?”

Oz’s heart began to race in that moment, for he was at a loss of what to say, “No—yes—I don’t—it’s fine—it _doesn’t_ —”

But Qrow didn’t give him a chance to come up with an excuse, “It doesn’t matter if it hurts or not. That’s not _right_ , Oz. How long ago did this all start?”

“Seven months ago.”

“Has she hit you recently?”

“I—it’s—well…”

“ _Has she hit you recently_?”

Ozpin ducked his head down, his fingers tightening around his arm. His clenching at it must have reopened the wound, though, because his sleeve felt sticky and warm.

Ironwood was suddenly pulling his hand away.

“ _Wait—_ ”

Too late.

Ironwood lifted his sleeve, revealing the ugly gash.

“What happened?” Ironwood demanded, his voice reaching an octave that Oz couldn’t identify. “Did she do _this_ too?”

“Picture frame fell… That’s all—”

“You’re _lying_. Did she throw it at you?”

He swallowed.

Again, his silence was enough of an answer.

Qrow finally spoke. “Oz… that’s… this is _bad_ ….”

”It’s okay. It—“

“It’s _abuse_ ,” Ironwood said, firmly like it wasn’t up for debate. “Do you… do you want to stay with one of us for the night until we sort this out? I’ve got a room for you.”

Ozpin stared down into the drink at his fingertips. “No.” 

“Oz—”

Ozpin glanced at his watch. “I need to get going.”

“But—”

And he left, paid his part of the bill and left his friends there, no doubt looking shocked and hurt, as guilt consumed him. He would only hurt them by burdening them with his problems.

* * *

It was a cold morning, 7AM. 

The sun hadn’t even risen yet.

They had never felt further away from each other than now.

Ozpin wanted nothing more than to fly away, to be taken away by a gust of wind and never come back. He knew that way of thinking wasn’t okay, but he just couldn’t help it anymore, he was past the point of caring. Practically numb by this point. 

He was holding Primrose, their youngest, in his arms, trying to get a shoe on her other foot so they could take her to daycare along with Orla and Idalia. After that, they would drop Icyln off at Elementary and be off to work.

It was all supposed to be very simple.

But Salem didn’t let it stay that way

“Here.” She extended her arms to grab Primrose from him. “Let me see her.”

Ozpin pulled away, giving her a right smile. “No reason to worry. I have it.”

Not the right thing to say, and he knew that. He almost cursed himself for it. But it was already too late. An edge grew in her voice. The edge that usually meant something bad was about to happen. Ozpin didn’t know when he’d started doing it —or how long— but his whole body stiffened.

“Just let me have her, Ozpin.”

“I said we’re fine. Can you finish getting Orla dressed—?”

Salem grabbed Primrose’s arm. “ _Now_ , Ozpin.” She tried to forcibly pull their daughter away, causing the poor child to whine.

“ _Stop_ _it_ , Salem,” Ozpin hissed.

She pulled harder. “ _Give her to me,_ Ozpin!”

Primrose tried to cling to his shirt, tugging to get away from the hard grip on her arm and starting to cry.

“She doesn’t want to go with you.”

“She’ll get _over_ _it_! Now give me my daughter!”

Ozpin grabbed Salem’s wrist, “You’re _hurting_ her!”

“You’re the one being a drama queen about this—!”

“Salem—!”

“HAND HER OVER!”

“SHE OBVIOUSLY DOESN’T WANT YOU!”

“SHE DOESN’T _KNOW_ WHAT SHE WANTS!”

Primrose started screaming. Salem was pulling hard enough to nearly yank it out of the socket, but she kept on trying to keep hold of her father, shouting, “ _No! Nonono_!”

Ozpin could see Salem’s nails _digging_ into Primrose’s flesh. She was _really_ starting to hurt her, and he was growing desperate, “SALEM, PLEASE, LET GO!”

Salem’s other hand whipped out, her knuckles going square into his nose.

Primrose was completely yanked out of his grasp as he stumbled back.

He held his face, gingerly touching his nose. Something warm pooled in the palm of his hand, a feeling he was growing used to. He knew it was wrong. He knew this wasn’t _right_. So why did he try so hard to make it work?

Primrose was screaming and kicking to get out of Salem’s grasp.

To get back to _him_.

Ozpin moved toward her, not to grab her, just to try to calm her down. “You’re scaring her, Salem! Please, just put her down—”

“WHY?! SO _YOU_ CAN TAKE HER?!”

“Salem—!”

Salem finally released Primrose so that she can move towards him, until their faces were a mere few centimeters apart. “I DON’T NEED YOU! I NEVER NEEDED YOU! YOU’RE USELESS AND PATHETIC, AND THE GIRLS DON’T NEED YOU, EITHER!”

She hadn’t hit him, and yet he felt like he had been. He shook his head, tried to get his mouth to move, but he couldn’t seem to open his jaw. He could only stand there with wide eyes, like prey trying not to be spotted by a predator.

But she did see him. Her eyes pierced right through him. “YOU WANTED A DIVORCE— YOU WANTED TO LEAVE— THEN _LEAVE_!”

Ozpin’s heart thundered against his chest. Flight or fight alarms were blaring inside of his skull. Instead, he stood frozen. He managed a subtle shake of his head and finally opened his jaw—

“If I did something wrong, if I upset you, I just… I want things to go back to how they _were._ I’m sorry—if that’s what you want to hear... I truly am so sorry—”

His apology seemed to be the last straw for her.

She hit him again.

Then again.

Her nails were at his face, his arms, his chest.

Ozpin tried to keep her at bay, but it was like she was trying to rip him apart.

He backed up, tripped over something, then they were on the floor.

“I HATE YOU!” She screamed at him. “ _I HATE YOU_!”

Ozpin didn’t even know what he’d done wrong. He didn’t know how to respond. He just knew he had to get away—get away—get away—!

“MOMMY! _MOMMY_ , STOP IT!” He heard Iclyn shrieking. 

Ozpin attempted to look for her, to see where she was—make sure she didn’t get hurt—

A fist to his gut made his vision go black for a second.

“I NEVER LOVED YOU! MY FATHER MADE ME MARRY YOU! YOU FUCKING BASTARD!” She screamed in his face, eyes blazing as tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I HATE YOUR GUTS—I’VE _ALWAYS_ HATED YOU! THIS IS JUST ANOTHER ROOM—ANOTHER ROOM FOR HIM TO TRAP ME IN!”

She hit him in any spot she could reach, any spot that was exposed as her voice reached a new octave that Oz thought would likely make his ears bleed. “I WON’T BE TRAPPED AGAIN, DO YOU HEAR ME?! I WILL NOT BE TRAPPED LIKE A WILD ANIMAL IN THIS CURSED MARRIAGE!”

Salem was in hysteria now. There was a look in her eyes—a madness that shook Ozpin down to his core.

Then, something was in her hand. He didn’t know when she’d grabbed it. Or what it was. But that _look_ in her eyes—that fury— and he knew—he _knew_ she wanted to kill him.

His hands went to his face, but she went for his throat. And then he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was choking on something, it was thick and tasted like iron. And then abruptly, he felt cold, this spin chilling coldness that left him trembling and shaking

His body convulsed, desperately trying to suck in oxygen it wasn’t allowed to have due to a long, deep gash that kept on bleeding and bleeding.

His head felt heavy and his mind went into a haze. Soon he could no longer differentiate between what was real and what was fake as his vision blurred.

Red and blue lights flickered in from the window.

_Red and blue._

_Red and blue…_

Then the fog cleared long enough for him to make out one thing amongst all the chaos going on around him: 

Just one thing. 

Salem’s voice.

He picked out an _ugly_ lie.

“He attacked me! I didn’t know what else to _do_ —he just suddenly attacked me!”

It took him a full year of recovery before he could even speak properly again.

* * *

He was sure he loved her once.

But as he sat in that hospital bed, he was also sure that he couldn’t love her any further.

He tried to remember the wedding, just how she made him feel back then, how much his heart swelled with love for her. He tried to remember that they were happy, once. The years they had spent raising Iclyn were blissful and filled with so much romance and a tenderness he cherished. 

They had been happy, they had loved—truly _loved_ —one another

But now, after this, he couldn’t find it in his heart to believe that anymore

* * *

The custody battle was ugly.

It was ugly, exhausting and stressful.

_God, was it stressful..._

Three weeks in and Ozpin felt like a zombie. He smelled bad, his brain felt numb, and the anxiety made him want to bite down on the first person he laid eyes on and take a chunk out of their flesh, just to relieve some of the built-up tension.

If that made sense.

He didn’t know if _anything_ made much sense anymore.

He could barely _think_

He spent nights upon nights pacing, and days upon days spent in bed. His stomach didn’t seem to know hunger anymore. Looking in the mirror made him queasy.

He never had the energy to make food or go anywhere or order something in. He never wanted to eat.

He found small comforts in Qrow and Ironwood. In these dark moments he found himself in, he was so grateful for their support. But he could tell that he was exhausting to deal with, naturally so, and sometimes he had to seek out a more patient friend.

Ozpin wandered out one night and walked the five miles down to her house.

He didn’t know why he walked all the way. He just needed time to himself, to think, maybe, even though his brain had been a buzzing emptiness the entire time.

When she opened the door, she looked at him like he _was_ a zombie. Like he’d suddenly risen from the dead.

He couldn’t blame the barely restrained shock. He probably looked horrible.

“Oh, Oz.” She reached out and hugged him.

Ozpin hugged her back, unable to stop the sudden breakdown that came at full force.

“I’m going to lose them,” He sobbed out, throat raw from lack of use, feeling like it had been through a cheese grater as he held onto her like she was the only life line he had to keep himself afloat. “I’m going to lose them, Glynda… _My daughters_ … She’s going to take my babies away from me and I don’t know what to do!” His legs buckled underneath him and he fell to his knees, “ _I don’t know what to do…_ ”

She rubbed his back. She didn’t have any words of comfort.

He was sure that she knew his words to be true.

If Salem got her way, he would never see his daughters again…

* * *

“There he is. _Oz_!”

Ozpin groaned, turning his head away from the loud noise.

Two pairs of hands reached under him, pulling him up from the bar.

“C’mon, Oz,” Qrow said, his voice cutting through the fog in Ozpin’s head, “You’ve had enough. I should know.”

“ _Ugh_ ,” Glynda retched, “He needs a shower. _Desperately._ He smells.”

“Cut the guy a break, Glyn. He just lost his kids.”

Ozpin stumbled, his legs giving out beneath him. He mumbled something, but he didn’t know what.

“Alright, big guy.” Qrow slides underneath him.

Suddenly, he’s being lifted over a shoulder and carried out of the bar.

“Let’s get you home.”

“Don’ have a home no more,” He had managed to slur through dry, cracked lips before vomiting all down Qrow’s back.

* * *

The school welcomed him back with open arms, which was surprising.

After over a year away, he was sure they wouldn’t. That Beacon itself would reject him, too.

But he went in and they gave him back his teaching job without a second of hesitation.

He went through the motions. He taught. He smiled. He laughed, like nothing was wrong, like he didn’t just lose everything in the span of a couple weeks. 

None of it ever felt genuine, though.

Eventually, the news came.

The passing of the previous Beacon Headmaster was talked and gossiped about from the towns of Mistral to the plains of Vacuo. It was a position that was well known to all a crossed Remnant. A position that, in James words, needed to be filled, by Oz, himself..

“You have the experience. And the degree to prove you’re capable. Why don’t you go for it?”

Ironwood was making sense.

True, Ozpin was young, but he could probably get the position if he fought for it.

“Besides,” Ironwood continued, setting down his cup of tea, “Maybe it’ll be a good way to get your mind off… _you know…_ ”

Ozpin nodded. “I could at least try, I suppose.”

James gave him a grin that spoke undertones of relief, and Oz took note that this was his friend's way of helping him, because he cared.

“That’s the spirit!”

Ozpin didn’t _really_ try though. He put in a halfhearted attempt at most. Truthfully, he didn’t want the position. But he tried because he knew this was important to Ironwood and who was he to let his friend down? 

But in the end, somehow, he got it anyway. Because for _some_ reason, people trusted him to fill it well.

Turned out, it _did_ make for a pretty good distraction.

* * *

It was a bad day.

Ozpin felt terrible.

If anyone ever asked, even the thought of it crossed his mind— _no_ , he was _not_ crying on the car ride home. And he did _not_ pick up ice cream and responded with “I’m never alright” when the cashier woman asked if he found everything okay. And that interaction was definitely _not_ what started his spiral into sobbing like a child who lost his favorite toy.

He wanted to be home. He wanted to do nothing. He wanted to pet his cat and cry and watch garbage TV.

He went inside, wiping his face on his sleeve. “ _DOCTOR_ _ICING_!” He called for his cat. “I brought snackies and ice cream!” He set his bag down and Doctor Icing came running for him, meowing. “Oh, there you are. Come here. Papa requires therapy. What is your recommended medicine today? _Atlas Had Got Talent_ or _Island of Passion_?”

“ _Meow_.”

He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, “You’re right, we need to know what happens with _Marcus and Dianne,_ so _Island of Passion_ it is,” Ozpin said with a watery voice.

“ _Meoow_.”

“Ah, most certainly. I hope he rejects her, too.”

He picked up Doctor Icing and the cat settled on his shoulder. He popped off the lid to the tub of ice cream then reached over to turn on the light.

The lights flickered on.

“SURPRISE!”

He’d been expecting a quiet evening indoors.

Just another night he spent wasting away on the couch, shoveling fudge ice cream in his mouth, and watching garbage reality TV shows and soap operas through blurry, puffy eyes.

Shouting _“YOU DESERVE BETTER THAN THAT HORRIBLE WOMAN, MARCUS”_ through a stuffy nose— definitely _not_ projecting at all. Because he was definitely _not_ a complete, broken mess under his composed countenance at Beacon.

Instead, he walked into a surprise party. And the illusion of him having his shit together was immediately broken.

Because Ozpin _froze_. Eyes wide, tongue in ice cream, cat on his shoulder, tears and snot on his face.

 _Noooooo,_ He internally wailed, _Please, God, nooooo… Anything but this._

Ozpin stumbled over himself to get out the door. He closed it behind him and pressed himself against the closest wall, standing there, utterly shocked and horrified by what had just occurred.

Eventually, the door opened and Qrow walked out.

“ _Uuuuhhh,_ Oz? Are you… uh, alright? If it means anything, it’s just me, Glynda, Ironwood, Oobleck, and Port.”

“That’s five people. Five whole people, who just saw me as… like some…!”

“Like an actual _person_? Yeah, I’m a lil shocked, too.”

Ozpin sent the man a glare.

“Alright, _shoo_!” Glynda snapped, yanking Qrow back. She took his place and closed the door behind her. “Are you okay, Oz? I’m sorry, this was my idea. But I should have realized—” She sighed, knowing that she wasn’t really helping. Eventually she said, “You want a smoke?”

“I haven’t smoked in over two years,” Ozpin muttered.

Glynda held out a pack anyway, “You look like you could use one.”

They quietly stood near each other as they finished their cigarettes.

Suddenly, Ozpin chuckled.

“What?” Glynda asked.

“It’s… _almost…_ such a relief…”

“What is?”

“Smoking like this… She didn’t let me… She _hated_ when I—”

Glynda sighed sadly and nodded. “Well… now you _can_.”

“Ah, but at what cost?” He asked through dull eyes and chapped lips, “I just didn’t realize… how _much_ she had taken from me… Not until she was gone. Not until I got to be _me_ again, did I realize. No ice cream. No cats. No cigarettes. No television. I was never allowed to do anything, or go anywhere besides my teaching job.” He closed his eyes and let the smile form the cigarette burn his throat, “But I get to have all of it now. But even _still,_ I don’t — I don’t feel like _me_ anymore… I don’t know who I am, because she tried to make me… someone else…”

Glynda’s green eyes held sympathy and understanding, and he was so grateful to her for being so patient. “Oz. With how much you’ve been through, you may not ever be the you, you once were."

“I know.”

Guilt resided in her eyes now, “I’m sorry. For everything. And I should’ve known better than to throw a surprise party.”

Ozpin shrugged stiffly, looking away and bringing the cigarette back to his lips. “You know… She didn’t ever let me have friends over, either… So… The company is much appreciated.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

Eventually, Glynda turned to him, one eyebrow raised, an expectant smirk on her face, “Do you want to go join the party? After we’ve finished these cigarettes?”

Ozpin nodded. “I would like that very much.”

After another beat of silence, Glynda spoke, her voice level and soft, “And you know… You can _be_ Ozpin around us. You can be the Ozpin who gets to cry and eat ice cream and pet his cat named _Doctor Icing_ and watch TV and occasionally smoke a cigarette.” She explained, with a chuckle in her voice, “You can be the Ozpin who tells lame jokes and drinks hot cocoa and pulls his little pranks. Because we _like_ that Ozpin. And we will _always_ be here for him.”

Ozpin smiled, eyes burning as tears filled them. “Thank you, Glynda. That means the world to me.” Then he furrowed his brows. “Also, you think my jokes are _lame_?”

“Oh, Oz, they’ve _always_ been lame.”

“What about the joke with the banana store? You hated _that_ one, too?”

“I _especially_ hated the banana store joke.”

They both fall into laughter.

When they finally went back inside, he felt a little more like himself again. He felt at least a little more like Ozpin.

But, even so…

It didn’t close up the void in his chest. A void that might not ever be filled again. Along with scars that may never fade.

Because, no matter what he tries, Ozpin couldn’t shake the feeling of her mouth against his ear, saying to him, over and over again, like a mantra he won’t ever forget.

> “ _You deserve it_. _You don’t deserve happiness. You deserve to have lost everyone you love._ ”

And eventually, he found himself believing that, with every part of his being.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PhantomDragon321 - Hello! 
> 
> TheAngelofFate— HEY YA'LL 
> 
> PhantomDragon321— This is a collaborative Fanfic both TheAngelofFate and I are both working on that was inspired by a Discord Discussion! Also, this is my first time doin the co-creator thing on AO3, so, we'll see how this works (I really hope it works hhaha)
> 
> TheAngelofFate— Honestly same, I've never done a collab with anyone before so I'm genuinely excited for this. Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated down in the comments down below and we will see you all later


	2. The Departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oscar is given some life changing news from his Aunt.

Oscar let out a low breath as he gazed at his packed suitcase and bag. He could do nothing really but stand there, as his stomach churned in knots. He practically bore holes into the fabrics of his luggage.

He was ready

Everything he wanted to take was neatly tucked away. Which sadly only contained several pairs of casual clothes, though his Aunt informed him that he would be provided with a school uniform as soon as he arrived. He was to wear it at all times unless on Holidays or the occasional dance. 

He had no need to buy any school books or any other supplies, as everything that he needed would be provided to him. Because he was going to the most well known and popular school in all of Remnant.

He was going to Beacon Academy.

It was something that still scattered his mind. Which was silly; he’d had weeks to prepare for this. Had started preparing himself the moment Auntie Em sat him down and told him the news.

> _"Oscar, sweetie."_

Oscar knew by the tone of her voice and the tears in her eyes that something was wrong.

> " _There's no easy way for me to tell you this, but… I can't care for you anymore. I could barely care for myself when it was just me, and then your parents died and even though I knew taking you would only lead to more debt, I did it anyway, because I love you…."_

She had sounded so ashamed back then, so pained to even utter such words. But she said them anyway, and the worst part of it all was the truth in her voice.

> “ _Your grades are the highest in your class. You’re smart, and you work hard. Any school in the region would be clawing to have you.”_
> 
> _Oscar nodded hesitantly. “Right…”_
> 
> “ _What I’m trying to say is… Well, there are a few schools out there that allow their students to live there on campus. They’re very good schools—”_
> 
> “ _You’re talking about the academies?”_
> 
> “ _They’re hard to get into, I know. But… if you want my earnest opinion, I think you could do it. The closest school near us is Beacon. Your SAT scores would have to be incredibly high, especially for them to consider accepting a 14-year-old, but—”_
> 
> “ _I’ll do it,” Oscar said without a moment’s hesitation. “If it means helping you, Auntie Em, then I’ll do it. You’ve… given me a good life here, and you’ve always been kind to me… So… I’d like to repay you for that—for everything.”_
> 
> _Auntie Em smiled and reached out to hug him. “I pulled together all the savings I had. The SATs are two months from now. So, until then, I’ll get you any books you need. Don’t worry about the cost. I want you to just study your heart out.”_
> 
> _“I’ll be sure to do my best.”_
> 
> _“I know you will.”_
> 
> _“If I get accepted, though… I really will miss you...”_
> 
> _She pressed her lips to his forehead, “I know, sweetie. Me, too.”_

The situation hurt, he wasn't going to lie. Auntie Em had cared for him since his adopted parents had died. And now she was saying that she could no longer support him.

But Oscar was nothing if understanding.

He knew that his Auntie Em was in a bind and had been for a long while now. And he knew that she really believed that sending him to live at Beacon was the best opportunity for him, to get the education he needed. To have a better life outside of just being a farmhand.

So he smiled, nodded and spent the next two months preparing himself for the SATs. He went through book after book, answered math problem after math problem. Eventually, the day of the test arrived, far too soon.

His hand was sweaty the entire time during the two hours it took to complete each test.

When he finally got back home, he wasn’t sure what his scores would be. He knew a good chunk of the questions, but there had been just as many he’d been uncertain about.

Waiting for the scores to come in was a nightmare. As he sat beside Auntie Em one night, eating bone broth and bread, he knew. He had to have passed. He had no other choice.

And then, finally—

The envelope.

Oscar opened it with shaky hands. And reading through the scores made him want to faint.

He plopped down on the floor and threw an arm over his eyes. Auntie Em’s face grew horrified. 

“What is it?! What are the scores?!”

Bubbling laughter escaped his throat as he held up the papers. “I did it!” He laughed. “I actually did it!”

Auntie Em took the papers from him, staring at them in awe. “Oh my goodness, Oscar! With these numbers, there’s no way they’ll reject you!” Oscar let out another bout of excited laughter, Auntie Em joining in. “You really, really did it! I’m so, so proud of you, sweetie!”

All that was left was to send off the scores, and wait for the confirmation from Beacon. It arrived in the mail a mere few days after.

There was a handwritten note along with it.

> _I look forward to having such a bright young mind attending my school. I wish you the best of luck, Mr. Pine._
> 
> _-Headmaster Ozpin_

And now it was finally here, the part he had been silently dreading and anticipating. His departure from the only home he’s ever known.

Leaving the farm he's known for the last fourteen years of his life. To go live in a dorm room at an Academy with people older and far bigger then him. He told himself that he would be fine, that this was for the best. Because now he didn't have to worry about burdening his Aunt, and he himself could get the education he always wanted.

He was _ready_ and yet...

He wasn't

A knock at his door ripped him away from his thoughts, "Oscar?" His Aunt's voice was muffled behind the dark oak wood, "Are you ready?"

Wiping at his eyes, he slung his bag over his shoulder and heaved his suitcase off his bed. He felt the wheels _click_ against the hardwood floor as he turned the door handle and revealed himself to her. "Yeah, Aunt Em, I'm ready..."

The expression on her face had stayed the same for the last two months. An expression of happiness, guilt, and heartbreak, they all seemed to swirl together like rose petals in the wind, twirling around his Aunt, pulling at the wrinkles on her face and dulling the light in her eyes. 

The day had finally arrived. It was actually time for him to leave, to leave and not come back until he’d graduated. It was now all the more tangible and the reality of it seemed to be weighing heavy on them both.

They walked in silence the entire walk to the train station. Along the way, his Aunt, as casually as she could, slipped her fingers into his and held his hand tightly. Oscar swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, and squeezed back, but remained silent. 

Only when the train arrived and the doors opened and Oscar was about to step inside did his Aunt halt him for just a moment, just a moment.

She placed a hand on the nap of his neck and tugged him to her, holding him close. And Oscar just sagged against her, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh that held so many emotions right into the wind, letting them go. 

"You'll be just fine," Aunt Em said thickly, as she ran her fingernails along his back, making him laugh as it tickled like it always did. "I know... _you'll be fine_. You'll get good grades, make new friends, you'll even have a room all to yourself and... and..." She trailed off but Oscar knew that whatever she wanted to say was obviously important to her, so he pressed the side of his cheek into her shoulder.

"And?"

She inhaled a breath, "And... I know they have documents of past students in the library, they have even better working computers. If you want, you can always... always look for your birth parents."

Oscar blinked several times, heart skipping a beat. "But... But you said they didn't matter, that the three of you had been enough."

Aunt Em pulled away enough to look him in the eyes and smiled. "Oh Oscar, I've known you for fourteen years now. You think I don't know what you search on Mr. Magorium's computers every Saturday evening?" She narrowed her eyes as she often does when she teases him. "I know you've always wondered who they were. I know that despite the stories I tell you of them isn't enough. And there is nothing wrong with that."

"It's..." Oscar stuttered through his words, something he was prone to doing when nervous. "It's not that I don't love you, or them, or that I'm ungrateful for everything you've done for me. I just..."

"Want the truth? A second chance?"

Oscar breathed, "Yeah... I'm sorry."

He felt so selfish

She kissed his forehead, letting out a chuckle. "I knew that one day the urge to know more about your birth parents was going to nip at that curious and adventurous brain of yours. You have nothing to apologize for."

The moment between them was broken when a whistle sounded off, indicating to all passengers that the train would now be departing.

They looked at each other, Oscar bit his lower lip as Aunt Em pulled him in for one last embrace.

"Study hard and know that I love you." She murmured in his ear, before letting him go.

Oscar walked into the compartment. He watched as the doors closed and the train began to pull away. Aunt Em walked along the train until it pulled completely from the station and out of sight.

* * *

Ozpin let in a low breath through his nose and out through his mouth. He was trying to prepare himself for the new year that rolled around, for students, old and new, were filtering back into Beacon Academy. _His school._ Even after fourteen years it was still so surreal for him to say that Beacon was his, that he was the Headmaster of this famous school.

He watched them from his window high in his tower. Most of his students were chattering amongst themselves. He could even hear their distant laughter as they all headed to their early morning classes. 

He smiled fondly at them all.

LIt had taken him years to admit that James had been right. That taking the position of Headmaster had been beneficial, that it allowed him a chance to move forward from what happened to him, from what Salem had put him through.

His students meant the world to him. Even when he was a simple teacher at Beacon, he truly cared about the students in his classroom. The former father in him just... always had a soft spot for children. Perhaps he was projecting, seeing as since he couldn't be a father to his own daughters, then it only made sense... or at least to him... that he try to be there for his students in the same way and view them as _extended_ children.

And for the last fourteen years that is what he did, and this year will be no different. He'll smile, give plenty of speeches, encourage his students to do their very best, and be the kind and caring person everyone saw in him, the one his mother always saw in him, bless her soul.

But today felt different. He woke up feeling less... numb, less fragile, less likely to snap and shatter into prices if someone poked him at the wrong angle.

"Oz?"

He turned from the window just as he was watching a short boy with a mop of brown hair running towards the entrance hall, looking to be in quite a hurry, when Glynda walked in.

His expression softened when he saw her, "Ah, Gynda. Is it time for my annual walk about the school, greeting the children."

She rolled her eyes at him, shaking her head, "Oz please. We have work to do." Glynda informed him, calmly. "Besides, why on earth would you want to do that right now?"

"Wasn't it you who said I needed to get out more?" He teased looking at her with narrowed eyes, knowing she’d take the challenge.

She did.

She returned his look with one of her own, "Yes, but this seems so out of character for you. Recently you haven't wanted to do that." Glynda pushed her glasses higher on the bridge of her nose. "And not that I'm not happy your willing to get out. Just why now?"

Ozpin shrugged, he didn't really have an answer. He just needed to get out, out of his musky office and breathe the open air before he loses his mind. "I'm feeling rather _good_ today."

Glynda tilted her head to the side, " _Really?_ "

"Always the turn of surprise."

She snorted, and he smiled at her genuinely. "Well, as glad as I am that you are having a good day, I actually came here to inform you of something."

"Which is?"

Glynda looked at her clipboard, squinting her eyes. "Apparently, a student was reported absent by Peter around an hour ago."

Ozpin blinked, perplexed on why this situation was being alerted to him, "I find it _disappointing_ that a student is already skipping classes on the second day of school, but what does this have to do with me? Abscesses aren’t _that_ unusual.”

"It’s not about the absence, it’s about _who_ is absent. Does the name Oscar Pine ring any bells to you?”

He thought for a moment, because the name sounded familiar. " _Pine_... Yes, I do recall that name. Had some rather impressive scores on the SATs. I also received a letter from someone regarding him?"

"Yes, a letter from an Emma Pine requesting for her fourteen-year-old nephew to not only attend classes, but—" Glynda paused as she read over the letter that Ms. Pine sent them, her eyes widened a fraction, before letting out a sad sigh, like her had the very first time she read it to him before, when it arrived at his desk before the first start of school. "But, _'also live here until he was of age because I have not the means to care for him anymore'_."

Ozpin closed his eyes and pressed a curved finger to his mouth. He could only imagine what this child was going through. How scared he must be, being in a place so new to him, surrounded by others so much older then him. "So to clarify; there is a fourteen-year-old boy, who just recently moved out of the only home he's ever known, most likely feeling scared and alone in a school he has never been to before?"

Glynda seemed to have retracted her earlier statement as her expression changed from strict to concerned when the severity of this boy's predicament became clearer, "Oh dear..."

"We need to move."

* * *

Oscar cursed to himself.

After the chaos that Orientation was the day before, Oscar all but collapsed into his bed and slept for the rest of the day. Which must have been pretty great because he had overslept. No one had even bothered to check on him, no one had even cared to see if there was a student not present. He was just... left to fend for himself in a school he had knew nothing about. A jolt of horror shot through his heart. Oscar practically flung himself out the door with his hair unkempt and his uniform hanging loose around his shoulders.

But in his rush, he realized almost immediately that he forgot everything he learned in Orientation yesterday. His classes, where the lunchroom was, the bathrooms, _everything_. Panicked, and all alone, Oscar picked a direction and started running. He ran and hoped beyond hope that he would find someone along the way, and that they would be nice enough to lead him to his first class.

And now, here he was, lost in the Forever Fall forest after he took a wrong turn and ended up amongst its crimson leaves as they fell like rain around him. And in normal circumstances he would have been captivated by its beauty, it was quite a sight to look at, but unfortunately, it's leaves had long since fallen on the covered the pathway back to the Academy, leaving him wandering the forest, lost in it's sea of trees where everything looked the same.

Auntie Em had sent him here to get an education and to live a far better life then she thought he had lived on her farm and what had he done? Gone and gotten himself lost.

And with no one knowing he was missing, that means that there could be a possibility that he could never find his way back, that he would be lost here forever.

Could he...

Was he going to die here?

No, that...

That was ridiculous, someone was bound to find him, right? Someone knew he was missing... He... He's not _that_ invisible...

Right?

But as the hour stretched on, he was beginning to think that was the case. His stomach churned at the thought of it. Bile rose up his throat as it often did when he was too overwhelmed to think straight.

Nerves shot, his body trembling and twitching like it was full of cicadas, Oscar felt like he was falling apart at the seams. Tears formed in his eyes as a deep, piercing fear engulfed him, his legs buckled and fell against a tree and sobbed.

Coming here was a mistake.

He didn't want to be here anymore. He wanted to be with his Aunt and her farm again, and the warm sun on his face. He wanted to do chores while his Aunt told him to be careful, and watched him with nervous tension on her face.

He wanted to go _home_

But he knew that was impossible. He couldn't go home, because not only would Auntie Em be disappointed, he would be disappointed in himself. It would be a waste of all the time he spent studying for the SAT’s. His struggling to get here would mean _nothing_

Then he heard someone that made him freeze. There was rustling in the distance, and another type of fear encased Oscar. Because wasn't this forest known for wild animals? He read it in the books that checked out from Mr. Magorium's bookstore, but he didn't think it was actually true, for a school to have animals running around where students could come across them.

He wanted to run, wanted to _flee_ but his body refused to move, paralyzed with fear. But instead of hearing a snarl, a growl from a vicious beast ready to tear him to pieces, Oscar heard a voice.

"Hello?"

Oscar looked up and eyes immediately honed on the face of the man that gave them speech at the end of Orientation yesterday, _Professor Ozpin_ , the Headmaster of Beacon.

Professor Ozpin met his gaze with a look of surprise and then that quickly turned to concern. "Oh, Mister Pine, thank goodness." The Headmaster said, his voice calm but it also held something Oscar couldn't identify. The man moved closer to him and bent down, keeping a respectful distance between them. Ozpin titled his head to the side, looking Oscar over, obviously making sure he wasn’t injured. 

“You've had the teachers in a tizzy looking for you."

Oscar opened his mouth and only managed a meek, "Th-They were looking for me?"

The Professor didn't seem to notice his distress as he nodded, solemnly, "Yes, I had almost every staff member look high and low for you on campus. However, I had a feeling that you might have accidentally found your way here, seeing as you aren't the first student to have wondered and lost their way here."

Oscar only heard bits and pieces of Ozpin's words, because knowing that he was being looked for, that he hadn't been forgotten or invisible was such a relief. And then that spike of relief quickly turned into something else. Something else that was more horrifying than being mauled by an animal. 

A surge of intense queasiness went through him.

 _Oh no—_ He thought as the feeling, that sickening sensation in his stomach kept building and building. _Please, no..._

"I can't begin to imagine how frightened you were," the Headmaster soothed, not noticing how pale Oscar suddenly became. "But it's alright. You're safe. Why don’t we both walk back to—"

Oscar felt a deep burning in his throat, his body suddenly convulsed and he could no longer hold back the urge anymore. He gagged and a foul substance immerged from him mouth as emptied the contents of his dinner from the night before onto the ground, which eventually turned into dry heaves. Tears of shame, pain and regret cascaded down his cheeks, while his body trembled, quacking with the sheer force of his heaving. 

He felt a pressure on his back, it felt like a hand, like someone was attempting to comfort him. But that only overstimulated Oscar's already sensitive body and he jerked away from the touch. It felt like it lasted hours, him shivering and twitching on the ground, when in reality it only last a few short minutes. He wiped his face, realizing that he had gotten vomit on Professor Ozpin’s suit. And that made him only sob harder from embarrassment.

“Oh… _oh no!_ ” Oscar bent his head low, feeling ashamed and pathetic. "I'm... I'm so sorry! I didn’t mean to! Sometimes when I get too nervous I—“ 

He looked up when he heard Ozpin let out a huff of laughter, "Please, Oscar. After what you've just been through, what you have likely been dealing with since coming here, you have nothing to be sorry for."

"But... I ruined your suit. I-It looked _expensive_."

Professor Ozpin snorted, "You want to know a secret? _It isn't_. I got it at the thrift store for only ten Lien."

Oscar blinked, surprised. "That's a well crafted suit for that low a price."

" _Exactly_."

Ozpin knelt down to Oscar's level, looked him in the eyes and smiled kindly. " _Now_ how's about we get you cleaned up and then you and I can make our way back? If we hurry, I believe we'll be able to make it to your third period class before it starts." He helped Oscar to his feet, a gentle hand on his shoulder to keep him steady. 

"What do you think?"

Oscar stared at the man, the very first to show him such kindness and care he's never experienced, and nodded, "Okay."

They managed to find their way back to campus, Oscar following Ozpin's lead the entire way, sticking to the man like glue, not taking the slightest chance of getting lost again. They moved down several corridors, and into a room which Oscar realized immediately was the Nurse’s office. 

Inside stood the Nurse, Helena Florence, and Professor Goodwitch.

Nurse Florence checked him over for any injuries or signs of ailment or fevers while Professor Goodwitch provided them both with a change of clothes. Oscar didn’t miss the glance Goodwitch gave him, how she regarded Oscar with a look of guilt and sympathy before turning and walking away.

And, just like Ozpin had said, they were able to make it to Oscar's third period class with Professor Oobleck.

"Ah yes, Mister Pine! _Mister Pine_! You gave us all quite the scare, young man." Professor Oobleck stated patting him on the shoulder, with a lot more force then he probably intended to. "If I may ask, where was he?"

"Forever Falls," Ozpin informed his interjected staff member. 

"Oh! It's very lucky you found him when you did, that forest is home to..."

Whatever animals Professor Oobleck was about to name was quickly cut off by Professor Ozpin. " _Please_ refrain from finishing that sentence, Professor. Oscar just had _quite_ the harrowing experience and I can guess he would rather _not_ think of it so soon." Oscar felt Ozpin gently place his hand against shoulder, and Oscar's cheeks burned again, "Besides, those are merely rumors, Barty. You know that."

Professor Oobleck blinked several times before a realization happened behind those large round glasses, "O-Oh yes, quite. Just rumors, how silly of me! But just think of the possibility if they were true— _Ah_ , Apologies, _apologies_ , Mister Pine, sometimes my imagination gets the better of me."

Oscar shrunk a little at being addressed so directly, but managed a nod. "It's okay..."

A chime of gentle dings sounded out across the halls, indicating that class was about to begin.

"And I believe that is my cue to leave." Professor Ozpin announced as he adjusted his glasses on his face, "You can take it from here, Oobleck?"

"Professor Port and I will go as far as accompanying Mister Pine to all his classes if we must!"

Ozpin chuckled at his friend, and then turned to Oscar. "Deep breaths." The man told him calmly, taking note that Oscar was already panicking at being left alone to deal with his classes once more. "Please, don't feel afraid to ask for help next time, alright? It's what we are here for."

Swallowing thickly, as an emotion gripped at his throat, Oscar could only nod. Yeah, he wasn't gonna go through something like that again. He'll even take Professor Oobleck's offer of him and Port walking him to classes, if it prevented something like this from happening again.

Ozpin gave him a warm smile, turned and began walking away. "Oh! I almost forgot.” Oscar watched as the Headmaster turned to look at him, "Welcome to Beacon Academy, Oscar."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TheAngelofFate— Whew, this chapter was a tad hard for me to write. Probably made this one a little more complicated then it would have been but I'm happy that Phantomdragon and I were able to brainstorm our way out. Regardless this was a fun chapter to write, despite my hiccups.
> 
> Phantomdragon- And now it's time to start brainstorming for the next chapter!! Whoop whoop!! ;D
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated for those we have the time and we will see you all later!


	3. The Bully

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oscar is gains himself a bully

Over the course of the next week, Oscar slowly started to figure out Beacon’s layout and where all of his classes were. And thankfully without the help of Professor Oobleck and Professor Port. Though, they told him they would be happy to help him, should he need it. And while Oscar was grateful, he did breathe a sigh of relief once memorized the route to all his classes, with the help of the layout he wrote down in his notes. He wrote and jotted down every single route to every one of his classes in multiple colored letters and numbers.. 

  * _Room: A200 —_ written in Bright Blue ink.
  * _Room: A201 —_ was written in dark black ink
  * _Room: B100_ — was a dark brown. Also known as The Shit Hall because it was the only room in the entire school that was painted deep brown. 
  * _Room: B132 —_ He wrote in a deep orange
  * Professor Oobleck’s Class which was, _Room C101_ , Oscar made sure to color coat it with a bright yellow
  * Professor Port’s Class: _Room A209_ was written in the deepest red Oscar had.



So the whole thing would be overly confusing to most, but for Oscar he felt better knowing he had a way to remember where all his classes were so he didn’t repeat what happened last week.

But then his Professor in the math department thought that just walking to their class was too easy. So to make it more challenging he decided to have the entirety of his students solve an algebra equation each day in order to find their class. Leaving Oscar no choice but to bust out a pen and paper and start jotting the equation down.

He was an entire twenty minutes late to class.

The next day, when Oscar finally felt confident in himself, felt like today was going to be a good day— _of course_ reality decided to smack him in the face as he stopped dead in his tracks to find that the hallway sign to his math class had rotated. 

_Oh no…_

_It was starting._

He took a deep breath, hoping that if he stuck to his list, the equation he copied down, that it would lead him in the right direction. But he wound up opening the door to _Room_ A211.

His list was all useless now. 

So every day, he would have to scramble around, making separate list for his math class while solving new math equations his Professor gave him in order to find the classroom and—

He was late to class again.

_What kind of insane school is this?!_

Luckily, the stars were in his favor because the more times he solved the problems each day, the easier it became.

And on Wednesday morning, Oscar actually made it on time..

“Hey, you made it,” The student across from him whispered, giving him a thumbs up. 

“Y-yeah,” Oscar muttered, tiredly, rubbing at his eyes with the knuckle of his finger. “I can’t believe we’re expected to solve those problems just to find our classroom every day…”

The student blinked at him as though he was crazy and then let out a laugh, “Why don’t you just look on the back of the cards like everyone else does?”

Oscar jerked up, like lightning had just coursed through him. He started wide-eyed at the girl next to him.

She caught the mix of horror and realization on his face and laughed, her bright, silver eyes practically glowing. “Yeah, I was shocked, too, when I first found out.”

“Quiet up front,” The Professor called out, causing them both to jerk forward again. “Roll call, everyone. _Pine_. Good to see you’re here early today.”

Oscar’s cheeks burned red at being addressed, exchanging a glance with the girl beside him. He sent her an embarrassed smile, and she sent a knowing grin back.

Class went as normal. He took extensive notes on quadratic equations. Listened intently to his Professor, and over all actually found the class kind of fun for the first time in two and a half weeks. 

When class was over, he felt a hand on his shoulder as he was walking out the door. “Hey. Your name is Pine, right?”

“W-what?” He turned to see the girl from class. Immediately, he flushed red at seeing such a pretty girl. He scratched the back of his head and looked down, hoping she wouldn’t notice. “Oh, yeah! It’s Pine—uh—Oscar! _Oscar_ Pine!”

“Oh, um, well, I’m Ruby,” She said just as awkwardly.

“Uh, uh,” They both paused, then suddenly they were talking in unison, 

“You have pretty eyes!”

They’re eyes both widened 

“Oh, thanks!”

They laughed, while Ruby carded a hand through her hair and Oscar looked at the floor. “Uh, okay, well, I’ve gotta head to my next class now—bye!”

Oscar gave her a little wave before turning around walking the in the opposite direction 

Once he felt he was far away enough, he shook his head, his cheeks no doubt flushed red, wondering what in the world just happened. _What is wrong with me? Pretty eyes?! Jeez what kind of Soap Opera scene was that—_

Wait…

He looked back over his shoulder.

_Did she say my eyes were pretty, too?_

* * *

“ _Pine_ , duck and cover!”

Oscar let out a loud yelp as he was hit in the face with a dodgeball. He reeled backward and fell on his rear, rubbing at his nose.

“I’m sorry,” He called to the coach. “But what’s the point of this game?”

“Don’t get hit in the face,” The coach replied, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. 

“Oh, I got that part,” Oscar said, slowly getting up, “But then what?”

“Then you get the other team out!”

“Oh… am I out?” Oscar asked, standing back up.

“Hits to the face are excluded.”

“Oh… So then—” Oscar was pelted by another ball, which came at his arm at full-force, knocking him to the ground yet again. 

There would no doubt be a bruise the next day. He caught a ginger haired kid snickering with a group of three other boys. 

The coach blew on his whistle. “ _Winchester_! I called a time out!” Then the man regarded Oscar with a knowing look. “ _Now_ you’re out.”

* * *

Oscar contorted himself in strange ways while trying to open his locker. He stood on his tiptoes—because his locker was up high, almost too far for him to reach—and twisted his head this way and that, trying to read the numbers so he could get his locker combination in.

Eventually, he did manage to open it.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

“Oh thanks—“ 

His words died in his throat when whomever he thought was going to help him ended up reaching over, grabbing the lock from his hands, and closing the locker shut. 

Putting Oscar all the way back at square one.

Oscar glared, watching as that same ginger haired kid from P.E. walked away, high-fiving one of his friends.

Great, now he has a bully. 

* * *

It was a different day. 

Or as his Aunt would have said: Same shit, different day. 

And today someone found it funny if they took the lock on his locker and flipped it around so he couldn’t input his code.

When he finally got it open, an elbow slammed down on the head of his locker, closing it shut again.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?” Oscar asked, finding the boy who’d been giving him such a hard time lately —the ginger named Cardin— hovering over him.

“You’re not _really_ fourteen. That’s some bullshit lie, right?”

“What? No—”

“ _Liar_.”

“But I’m not lying—”

Cardin snorted. “ _Whatever_.” He snatched the lock from Oscar’s hand tossed it across the room, where it landed on the ground with a deafening crack to the tiled floor.

With one last smirk, Cardin stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked away.

* * *

A week had passed when Ruby finally asked, “Hey, what lunch period do you have?”

When had she started hanging out with him? How had he not noticed until now? “Uh, I have B lunch.”

Ruby grinned, looking delighted, “Really?! Me, too! Do you wanna sit with me? My sister Yang and some of my other friends will be there.”

“I don’t know,” Oscar said shyly, “I usually just head to the library.”

“All lunch period? Don’t you eat?”

His stomach began to churn. All these questions were starting to feel a little personal, and he didn’t know how to answer without it all turning into word vomit. The last thing he needed was to throw up on Ruby like he had on Professor Ozpin. 

He took a breath and swallowed. “I mean, y-yeah? I eat, just away from other people mostly.”

He tried not to think of the other times he’s sat in the lunchroom, and listened to all the conversations amongst the students that they thought he couldn’t hear, or that they knew he could, but didn’t care. 

> _“Looks it’s that boy that got lost on the second day of school.”_
> 
> _“The one that ended up lost in Forever Falls?”_
> 
> _“The one that threw up all over Professor Ozpin?”_
> 
> _“Gross.”_
> 
> _“Maybe… he needs a map?”_
> 
> _“Or a compass.”_

“Being alone… feels safer.” 

Ruby gave him a sympathetic look, while placing a hand on his shoulder, making his cheeks flare red. “That sounds really lonely.”

He tried to play it off like he was used to it but, his smile faltered without him meaning too. “I grew up on a farm with only my Aunt for company. I’m… used to being alone.” 

Ruby blinked, and then her face morphed into a sad expression. “Just your Aunt? I mean you don’t—“ she paused and looked guilty, like she had said something wrong. 

And Oscar, not wanting her to feel any sort of guilt when it came to him, shook his head, his mouth moving before he had a chance to stop it. “ They died when I was too old to remember them— But it’s okay! I’m adopted anyway so…” He blinked his throat feeling uncomfortably tight, because _why_ had he said that? How could he have blurted that out so easily? “I— Uh… I’m sorry…” 

Ruby shook his head, looking as though the ground was about ready to swallow her up, “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have brought it up… I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay.”

They both stood there, rather awkwardly. Unsure of what to say or do. Oscar even had this sudden urge to run the other way, and find the nearest trash bin, because the entire situation was causing so much anxiety on both their ends. 

“Oscar?” 

He forced himself to look at those silver eyes. “Yeah?” 

Ruby pressed her lips into a thin line, “I won’t…. I won’t tell anyone. Not unless you want me to.” She said in a soft voice, “I promise.”

And after a long moment of looking at her facial expression, Oscar believed her, “Thank you.” 

A beat of silence. 

“So” Ruby said, breaking the silence. “Do you _want_ to come sit with me and my sister at lunch?”

How can he say no to her?

“Sure.” 

* * *

Ozpin stretched his arms and leaned forward in his chair. Tired didn’t even _begin_ to describe how awful he truly felt. Three and a half weeks of nonstop paperwork and deadlines needing to be met, meetings needing to be scheduled and salary for each of his staff needing to be filed and drawn. 

Staring at page after page of documents, until his eyes crossed, reading and _rereading_ each line back and forth until his vision blurred.

Ozpin was more than tired, he was _drained_. His back ached so severely that he feared his spine would snap in two if he so much as bent back. His legs felt so unsteady, so numb that he knew if he even risked standing up, it would only result in his face meeting the floor.

He needed to sleep. Hell, he needed a _drink_. Several, in fact. 

Both things, he knew he wasn’t getting any time soon. Not with these piles of papers still needing to be signed, dated and sent out. 

The only bright side to all the paperwork, was that they were a good distraction from what happened with Oscar. 

He paused in his writing, as he remembered that day, merely three weeks ago. The sound of _sobbing_ led Ozpin straight to the boy, who looked to be —or already was— going through a panic attack.

Body shaking with uncontrollable tremors, tears flowing freely down those tanned cheeks. The poor boy looked absolutely terrified and… Ozpin would be lying if the sight of this child didn’t stir something inside of him, an instinct he has felt for a _long_ time. 

But he knew to not overstep. Everyone had their boundaries and Oz knew that Oscar had _long_ reached his.

So he chose to kneel there, trying his best to calm the boy. And he didn’t even move away when Oscar lost what remained of his composure and lost all what he had most likely eaten the previous day and had gotten a fair amount onto his clothes. 

No, the most that he did was grimace at the smell. Oscar had needed to be reassured. So he opted for a gentle hand on Oscar’s back, wanting to do more but knowing even doing that could set the boy off. 

And it did. 

Oscar jerked away from his touch unsurprisingly. But still continued to empty the contents of his stomach, in violent shutters and deep dry heaves, while Oz remained exactly where he was, his hand hovering in the air, wishing he could do more as his heart pinged in sympathy. 

And while they made it back to campus, Ozpin found that Oscar was sticking to him like glue. Becoming almost like his second shadow as they walked in silence. He couldn’t help but smile at that, he hasn’t had a child follow him around like that since— 

Well… his daughters

He would be lying if he said he hadn’t missed it. 

Because he did, he missed it. Missed the concept of parenting.

Of being a father. Because even though he was a Headmaster, even though his school was filled to the brim with students young and old.

In reality, if he was being truthful for once in his life, he hardly ever saw them. Hardly ever interacting with his students when not forced to. Until when he had been a teacher and had a regular class he saw everyday. As a teacher, he saw them, memorized their faces, taught them every single day and grew to care about them. 

Being Headmaster didn’t give him that freedom.

Or in Glynda’s words: It did, he just never let it. Because according to Glynda, he was scared of growing close to his students because he knew they would leave eventually. Something that he was never able to handle, that genuine fear of growing close to others, and most especially children. 

And like always, Glynda’s words held truth. 

But with Oscar, after all these years of shielding himself, Oz had no choice but to interact. To give the boy comfort, reassurance. Oscar was in a state of panic and fear, on the edge of having a panic attack. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself had he just let the poor boy suffer because he was too scared to open himself up.

So he did, he steeled himself and comforted Oscar with his presence. Opening his heart just enough to get that calm feeling across. Just enough to show Oscar that he cared about his well being, like he did with all his students. 

It was something he had not done in years, something that reminded him of his daughters. Back when things— when things had been simple. 

His heart ached, he closed his eyes and fought against the urge to weep for his daughters. God, he missed them. Missed them every single day. From the moment they were ripped away from him now, he missed them terribly. And would continue to do so until his last dying breath. 

A knock came at the door.

Oz quickly wiped at his eyes and adjusted his glasses, clearing his throat. “Come in, Glynda.” The door opened and in walked Glynda, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Without even batting an eye, Glynda simply looked at her clipboard, “Just dropping off more papers for you to sign.”

His face morphed into a look of disgust, “ _Fantastic_. And just when my back started to be less like a pretzel.”

That got a snort from her and Ozpin smiled in return. “Oh, and James wanted me to inform you that he will be bringing several of his students to the festival when Spring rolls around this year.” 

Oz slid another paper over to the pile that said _’Send Out’,_ and grabbed his scroll to look at the dates for the Spring Festival. “He’s been doing the past few years now—”

Then a loud bang from outside abruptly rattled the walls. 

The two shared a look of confusion towards the other before a muffled voice could be heard from behind it. He’s been Headmaster long enough to know what was going on. A fight had broken out between his students. In one swift motion, Oz stood up and walked over to the door, Glynda following closely at his heels. 

He opened it loudly, to announce his presence, turned his head and froze. There sprawled out on the ground was Mister Winchester and—

Something in his heart…. ceased within _seconds_ as at the sight before him. For it was none other than Oscar on the ground coughing and sputtering, looking like he almost had a near experience with death. 

* * *

Three days after he started hanging around Ruby and her friends, Oscar was finally starting to feel calm. He was finally starting to feel like he could do this. That he could really stay here, for the next four years, he felt like he could do his Aunt proud.

Now if only the school could throw a bone on the thing he was searching for, the very reason he was using the library in the first place. The Beacon computers were proving to be just as useless as the ones Mr. Magorium had back in Mistral. 

Oscar shoved the documents he just printed out in his bag and puffed out his cheeks in frustration. How hard could it be for him to find records of his adoption? They didn’t have sealed documents back then, that policy hadn’t become a thing until _long_ after his foster parents died. 

So what gives?

Why couldn’t he find them?

Why couldn't he find a single record of his birth parents?

A sudden burning sensation in his ear caused Oscar to let out a yelp of pain. His hand immediately shot up out of instinct, covering his ear protectively. He jerked around in a state of panic, only to see Cardin walk right passed him, with a smirk on his face.

Oscar rolled his eyes, he didn’t have time to deal with Cardin right now. With getting good marks in all his classes for the next four years and using his spare time to look for his birth parents. He had plenty of other things to worry about then a simple bully. 

And so he did his best to ignore Cardin the rest of the day. But he was proving to be even more persistent than he normally was. As he followed Oscar, anywhere he went, obviously waiting for the right moment, to get Oscar alone so that he could corner him. 

And it was just as apparent to Ruby as it was to Oscar because she also wasn’t leaving him alone. She would follow him to all his classes, even the ones they didn’t share together, she would simply stand outside the door and wait for his class to be over. Giving no indication that she even cared remotely about missing her own classes in the process. 

And he wondered why. He knew _why_ , she was sticking to him, because of Cardin. But he wondered exactly why she would do that. 

“Hey Ruby?” He asked her, as they made their way to the library Friday evening. 

“Yeah?” 

He took a breath choosing his words carefully, “Why are you hanging around me?”

She blinked obviously caught off guard by the question. “Huh?” 

“I mean….” He wetted his lips, “I know why you're doing it because of Cardin, but you don’t always have to be around me.” Because it was true, and while he enjoyed her company immensely, Oscar knew that she didn’t _have_ to.

Ruby pressed a hand to his shoulder and Oscar had to fight hard not to blush, “Oscar, I’m not just here because of Cardin— Though that is _kinda_ how it started.. I’m also here cause I enjoy it. Because I enjoy being your friend.” 

Oscar smiled, heart warming at her kindness. “I know. And I appreciate it. Really I do.” He grasped the sleeve of her arm and slid her hand off his shoulder. “But I know you also want to be with Yang and everyone else.” 

She gave him a sideways smile, prompting him, “You can come too, you know. You said you’ve had a good time being around them. Especially Nora and Jaune.”

Oscar pressed his lips together, “I know. I am, _really_. I never thought I’d ever have friends coming here. It’s just….” 

How would he even explain this? How could he explain the way he was feeling without him coming off as shallow or a horrible person? Everything was still so new to him. And though he was calmer than he has been in weeks—he felt far more confident than when he’d arrived—there was still a part of him that was cautious, that was bracing for everything to come crumbling down. 

Plus, he still had the matter of his mission in the library. Searching for his parents, he didn’t want to get others involved. This felt like something _he_ had to do. 

“You still haven’t told me what’s been bothering you lately.” Ruby looked sad, her expression was etched with concern and Oscar felt a jolt of _guilt_ stab him right through the heart.

“I-I know. I will. I just… need some time to sort things out. To find the right words.” He opted for a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and chewed the bottom of his lip. “But it’s okay. I promise. You go find Yang. I could tell she missed you at science class today.” 

Ruby looked conflicted, as she took a few steps away from him. “But Cardin—“

“Cardin is a typical bully, that is most likely due to hidden issues of his own, I’m not scared of him.” And it was true, he wasn’t. Or at least not to the extent people thought he was. Cardin’s negative advances on him were simply because he believed he was an easy target, especially with all the gossip around the Forever Falls incident.

He was in no way scared. Because who knows the real reason why Cardin did the things he did? How could he be scared of someone who he didn’t even know? “You go ahead. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, “I have some things I need to finish at the library. Maybe I’ll meet you after? During lunch?” 

She smiled at him, the traces of worry in her eyes were still there but less so. “I’ll be there.” 

Then she was gone. Leaving Oscar to prepare for the encounter that he was certain to have with Cardin. 

And sure enough, not twenty minutes later as he was walking out of the library, securing his book bag around his waist, Cardin appeared out from around the corner. 

“Hello Cardin,” he greeted as he tried to get around the teenager. “Not to be rude, but I don’t have time for whatever it is you’ve been planning to get me alone for.” But Cardin wouldn’t let him pass, so Oscar sighed. “I will say I’m impressed how often you keep finding me though. You’d make a good detective.” 

Cardin sneered, “Wasn’t that hard to find you. Honestly, it’s easy to find exactly where you are, Pine. Given your smell. Do you ever _bathe_ or are you just permanently stink of cow shit?”

Oscar rolled his eyes. Original. Cardin was using his farm life as an insult. Trying to get a raise out of him, what was he expecting him to punch him? Fight back? Why would he ever stoop that low? “Whatever you say, Cardin,” He said as he finally managed to maneuver around the older teen. “Again, I have somewhere to be.” 

But apparently, ignoring Cardin and trying to defuse the situation, to keep it from turning violent, seemed to have the complete opposite effect. Oscar felt something grasp the collar of his shirt and before he even had the time to process it, he was suddenly thrown against the wall. 

The force of it nearly gave him whiplash. He saw black spots and was barely aware of Cardin pressing his arm against his neck until he couldn’t breathe. 

“You think you're _better_ than me?” Cardin sneered, in his face. “You think you can come to this school and pretend that you're meant to be here? Someone who’s life is nothing more than a farmhand from Mistral?”

Oscar barely could hear what Cardin was saying anymore. His mind was turning to mesh, his ears were filling with static. 

He couldn’t breathe, _he couldn’t breathe._

He struggled. 

Oscar kicked, twisted his body around, did everything he could to get away so that he could _breathe_. 

He flung his arms up and around blindly. Faintly, he felt his hand connect with something and then the pressure suddenly disappeared. Cardin’s arm was gone and Oscar crashed to the floor. 

A choked noise erupted from his throat as he took in several long breaths. Tears streamed down his cheeks. 

When he was finally able to breathe in without his throat jolting in shock, his vision cleared just enough to see Cardin on the ground too. Back against the wall, wiping away the blood that dripped from his nose. 

Did…

Did he do that?

He could only look on, practically in a daze, when Cardin let out a low groan and used his elbows to prop himself up. His gaze turned to Oscar and a strange look came across the older boy’s face. 

Distantly, he heard footsteps coming towards them. “What is the meaning of this?” Professor Goodwitch looked less than pleased as she gazed at the scene with wide and furious eyes. To her right, Oscar saw the blurred outline of…

His heart nearly ceased in horror, for the person who was standing next to Glynda was Professor Ozpin. Out of his peripherals he watched as Cardin began to move. And nerves still shot, instincts kicking in, Oscar pressed his back further against the wall. 

His vision swam once more. When the haze cleared, he saw Professor Ozpin kneeling down next to him, just like the first time they’d met. 

“Are you alright? Nothing broken? Nothing you feel needs to be checked by the nurse?”

Oscar swallowed, and mentally looked himself over before shaking his head. 

“Okay, that’s good. How’s your breathing?”

He opened his mouth and what came out was a low, hoarse sound of what it had been. “B-Better.” 

“Can you stand?” 

Oscar knew immediately that the answer was no. He was shaking too bad. Adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he shook his head again. Ozpin gave him a reassuring smile, just like he had done before, “That’s alright. I’ll help you up and we can all head over to my office. There is something we need to discuss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phantomdragon321— I have to thank Angel profusely for helping me with this chapter ! It wouldn't exist without her!! <3
> 
> TheAngelofFate — Aw, your gonna make me cry! I’m so happy I could help! We’re in this together, you and I. I have to tell you all when we realized how long this chapter was??? Well we kinda had to split it up. 
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated down in the comments down below and we will see you all later


	4. The Cabin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oz takes Oscar somewhere to breathe and Oscar is hesitant to go anywhere with a stanger

Oz had to center himself. He had to breathe, he had to dig his nails into his palms to keep emotions in check. 

Because he was feeling something he hasn’t felt in years. 

Anger. 

Towards one of his students no less. 

One would think that it would be Glynda who would be the one most upset about the whole situation, considering bullying, poor treatment of others in general always disgusted her. 

And while she was indeed angry. She was nowhere near the level Oz was. 

But he took a breath, took several, and a long sip of his cocoa that he now more than ever wished was something stronger. And looked up at Cardin Winchester.

“You are aware that what you nearly did could be labeled as assault, correct?” Cardin flinched, but said nothing to defend himself. So Oz went on, “Now I may not understand why it is that you bully others, Mister Winchester. Be it poor home life, self confidence issues, either of which I will gladly help in any way I can.” 

That made some of the tension in Cardin’s shoulder decrease, but only just as Oz continued, “But what I will _not_ tolerate is your complete lack of human decency and compassion towards your fellow students. Your actions today could have very well killed Mister Pine. And you would have no one to blame because you let your emotions control your actions. You are aware of that.”

It wasn’t a question and yet Cardin answered it like it was. 

“Yes, sir,” Cardin said, voice sounding small, despite him being over seventeen. 

“Good. Now while I will not be expelling you, you will be receiving a three week detention notice. I will be calling the Atlas Headmaster and request bringing in a counselor for you. And you will be writing a written apology to Mister Pine. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes.” 

“Good, you may leave.” He announced as he pushed himself from his desk and strolled over to the door with Cardin shuffling beside him. “And Cardin?” 

The teen stopped and looked behind him. “I don’t want it to be a half baked apology, I want you to think about your words and _mean_ them.” 

Cardin blinked at him, and swallowed rather thickly. “Yes, sir.” 

Even when he was gone, the energy in his office, the tension and overall waves from Oz, still remained. Slowly, he took a breath and rubbed his temples while Glynda stood off to his left. 

For a minute, there was only silence. 

“I cannot believe—“

“I know.” 

“He could have—“

He breathed in through his nose, “I know, Glynda.” 

“To a child—“ 

“Just—“ He swallowed, his head pounding. “Send Oscar in.” 

Glynda inhaled a deep breath, adjusted her glasses, opened the door and in walked Oscar seconds later. “Oscar. Please, sit down.” 

Slowly, Oscar moved to the chair sitting in front of his desk and sat down. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, and Ozpin decided that he needed to first and foremost calm the boy. Like he did when they had first met. And if that meant that they had this conversation another time, then so be it. 

“If you are unable to do this, Oscar, then you are free to leave and we can continue it when you’ve properly rested.” 

Though to his surprise, Oscar shook his head, “N-No I’m okay… I’m—“ Oz watched as Oscar fingers switched, “I’m fine. I can do this.” 

A beat of silence passed before Oz nodded, “Okay, but at any time you wish to stop then we will. My job as Headmaster is to get you _out_ of stressful situations, not put you further in them. Alright?”

Oscar swallowed, “Okay.” 

Ozpin leaned forward, and looked at Oscar’s ragged appearance before speaking. “Cardin—“ Oscar flinched at the name and Ozpin paused to give the boy a minute to collect himself, “Cardin didn't really give me much details on what happened. I only know from what I saw with my own eyes.” Oz took a breath, “If you are able, could _you_ tell me what happened?”

Oscar’s body language changed the moment he began speaking, “Cardin’s— He’s been following me around the past couple days. Ruby— she knew it too and was kinda protecting me from him, but I knew she wanted to be around her friends so I told her to go and when I was… coming back from the library…. he was just suddenly there….” Oscar’s breath began to hitch and his shoulders tensed. “I-I tried to ignore him, walk past him. I didn’t even get mad when he told me I smell because I work on my Aunt’s farm. Or when he said I didn’t belong but he…” 

Ozpin watched, with sadness in his eyes as Oscar’s hand rose and his fingers lightly brushed up against his neck. “I couldn’t breathe.” The boy said in a whisper. “I tried to get away, I struggled but _I couldn’t breathe_ … I thought—“ Tears swelled in Oscar’s eyes, as he wrapped his arms around himself, “It felt like I was going to die…” 

Oz’s heart skipped a beat as he felt a familiarity in Oscar’s words and in the boy’s general situation. For it merely 13 years ago when he had described that same feeling. Where Salem had… tried to do what Cardin had nearly done to Oscar. 

“I’m sorry, Professor Ozpin. I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. I—“ Tears flowed freely, cascading down Oscar’s cheeks. “I was scared. I’m sorry.” 

Suddenly there was this instinct, this drive to help Oscar. This boy he knew practically nothing about but had a deep sadness in his eyes that Oz found similar to his own. 

“Do you prefer hot cocoa or tea?” 

Oscar sniffled, blinking several times as he gazed up at Oz, “W-What?”

Ozpin smiled, “Hot cocoa or Tea?” He repeated softly, “I myself prefer cocoa over tea, but Glynda has said it is mainly due to my sweet tooth..” Over in the corner, he heard Glynda let out a small snort. “Though I know and recognize that others don’t share my preference for it. So?” 

It took a moment for Oscar to process his words before being able to give him a proper answer. “U-Um. Tea?” 

Ozpin smiled, “I thought so.” And in one swift motion, he stood from his chair, and grasped his cane tightly. “Now if you will follow me please. I have the perfect place to have some. Glynda?”

Glynda gave him a knowing look, rolled her eyes and moved forward. “I’ll cover the rest of your paperwork. But you owe me, Oz.” 

“And I always repay my debts, Glynda.” He turned to Oscar and motioned for the boy to follow him. “Shall we?” 

Oscar stood and followed him towards and out the door. “Uh, Professor? Where are we going?” 

Ozpin stopped, looked Oscar in the eyes, with a soft grin, “You’ll see.”

* * *

Oscar wasn’t sure where they were going. He couldn’t even fathom a guess.

All he knew was that suddenly, they were walking through the Forever Falls, surrounded by new, green foliage. The trees were starting to blossom, departing more pollen than leaves on the forest floor.

“What are we doing out here?” Oscar inquired.

“You said you wanted tea, didn’t you?” Ozpin replied, his smile turning cryptic. “If you ever get lost out here again, now you’ll know to turn to the trees. It’s the easiest place to reach me if I’m not on campus.”

“You’ll… be in the trees?”

Ozpin laughed. “No.” He gestures to a nearby tree. “You follow the houses.”

_The houses?  
_

Oscar glanced over the tree curiously. Seeing nothing, his eyes wandered down, then up. That’s when he saw it. A little green birdhouse hanging from a low branch.

He looked ahead, and indeed, there was a path of birdhouses and bird feeders of all kinds. Big houses and small houses. Some bird feeders filled with grain, others with sunflower seeds, some with sugar water. The thing they all had in common was that they were all painted a dark green that blended in with the leaves.

From at the corner of his eye, Oscar witnessed a brown bird disappear into one of the houses.

Little hummingbirds flickered around the feeders with sugar water, dipping their tiny, thin beaks into it, then flicking away.

“Do you like birds?” Oscar asked.

“All of them,” Ozpin replied, watching a black bird pecking at the ground under one of the feeders, taking all of the grains that were knocked down by the others.

“And you refill all of these yourself?”

“I have some help sometimes. One of my companions is partial to the crows in this forest. Mostly because they’ve learned he’ll keep feeding them if they bring him cash. He’s trained them to pickpocket. Duck.”

“You have ducks, too—?”

“Well, yes, but you misunderstand. _Duck_.” Ozpin pushes him down just as something goes flapping over their heads. It was one of those crows he’s spoken of. It lands on a branch and squawks down at them.

“That’s Knife. He likes to steal my glasses. Not today, Knife! Shoo!”

To Oscar’s surprise, “Knife” flaps away with a disgruntled caw.

“By the way, that name was given to him by my friend. I certainly would have never come up with something so… violent.”

“Aren’t you afraid of running into bears? Or big cats? Or something worse?” Oscar asked.

Ozpin laughed again. “Come now, there’s nothing like that out here. Worst I’ve seen is a raccoon. His name is Bandage. He lives in this burrow by my cottage. Used to knock over the trash cans, but he’s stopped doing it since I started leaving out food for him.”

“Huh. _You_ kind of look like a racoon,” Oscar said without thinking. As soon as it was out of his mouth, he grew embarrassed. “Oh! But I didn’t mean that in a bad way or anything—!”

Ozpin went into full-blown cackling. “Glynda called me a racoon once! She said I scavenge the faculty room enough to be considered one!”

They walked over a small incline and made it to the top.

“Here we are.”

Oscar stepped up beside Ozpin and stared in shock.

“Cabin” seemed like a generous word to use. It wasn’t made of wood, and while it wasn’t enormous, it’s size was nothing to sneeze at, either. It was tucked away under the shade of the trees, the clearing looking open and barren. The ground was covered by a blanket of fallen leaves.

The white exterior of the house was old and faded, accented by a chipped and worn dark green. Twisted vines seemed to hang off its frame like dry snakes. It had numerous windows, though the curtains were drawn to shut the world out. A few of the windows on the lower floor were open, the curtains swaying and dancing like little ghosts were pulling on their hems.

Maybe the house had been beautiful back in the day, when it was first built out here in these woods, but time and weather had withered that beauty away.

It almost looked like something out of a horror film…

So _this_ was the cabin that people had talked about. 

“Coming?” Ozpin asked.

Oscar jolted, realizing that the man was several strides ahead of him.

He cautiously followed behind Ozpin, eyeing his back uncertainly.

_Please don’t be a serial killer, please don’t be a serial killer, please don’t be a serial killer—_

He took the stairs up onto the porch, swallowing as he stared at the old, wooden rocking chair, it’s paint peeling like claws had been drawn over it a thousand times.

Ozpin opened the door and Oscar shut his eyes for some reason, like he was expecting it to open into some sort of hellscape from an alternate dimension.

Instead, when the door opened, he was hit by a warm gust that carried the smell of cookies and cinnamon spices and paper.

“You can leave your shoes on the porch,” Ozpin said, leaning on the doorframe and pulling off his own.

“O-oh. Okay.” Oscar shook himself from his stupor and pulled off his shoes, setting them nearly beside Ozpin’s before stepping in after him.

Inside the house was… not at all what he expected. A plethora of rugs and books and cushy pillows and a fireplace. The walls were covered in paintings and maps, as well as puzzles that had been completed, glued, framed, and hung. There were simple 200-piece ones to some that looked to be over at least 2,000 pieces.

There was an incomplete puzzle scattered on the coffee table across from the fireplace. A cushion was placed there on the floor in front of it.

Oscar tried to imagine Ozpin sitting on that cushion, hovering over this puzzle, going piece by piece while sipping on cocoa and listening to the crackle of the fireplace.

Oscar could see the appeal in that.

He took in a deep inhale of sugar and books, listening to the windchimes and trees outside flutter in the wind, hearing the wind run its fingers across the window glass and the ticking of several clocks from inside this room and beyond.

He could probably stay in this house forever.

Ozpin beckoned to him. “This way.”

Oscar closed the door gently behind him, stepping further into the living room.

“You can wait there on the couch while I go make that tea. Feel free to pick up a book if you want or complete that puzzle for me. Whatever you like.”

“S-sure.”

Ozpin disappeared into the kitchen and Oscar immediately went to the bookshelves. He scanned them with his eyes.

There were so many!

Eventually, he plucked one from the shelf, turning the cover over and reading the summary.

Oscar had to pause once he was done.

_Wait a second, this is… romance?_

He scanned the books in front of him again, pulling out a few enough to glimpse their covers.

Romance. Romance. Romance…

Oh, there. A Sci-Fi section on the upper shelves. There weren’t many.

Oscar stepped over to the other nearby bookshelf. These books were thick, gold rimmed, and they looked old. They were a collection of some kind. Actually…

He recognized these books!

_Wow… So the Headmaster of Beacon likes to read Romance and Fairytales. Huh._

“Do you like honey with your tea?”

The voice startled him. Oscar turned around, watching Ozpin place a tea tray on the table.

“Oh, um, yeah.” Oscar headed over to the table and sat down, watching Ozpin prepare a cup of tea with sugar and honey before setting it down in front of him. “You read a lot of fairy tales.”

“Call it an addiction of sorts.” Ozpin chuckled.

“Doesn’t seem like a bad addiction to have.”

“No, not at all.” Ozpin sat down in the chair across from him, pulling a mug of cocoa towards him. Oscar noted the plethora of marshmallows and chocolate syrup.

“Do you have a favorite?”

“It’s hard to narrow it down. The Infinite Man rings a certain bell for me.”

Oscar snorted.

Ozpin tilted his head and blinked at him, “I’m assuming you don’t agree?”

“Oh, no—I mean.... it’s a good story. But it’s not... the best?” 

Ozpin smirked. “Oh really? And what tale do you propose is “the best”?

“I think The Indecisive King is a lot better.”

“How so?”

“Well…”

Soon enough, they were talking fairytales. They talked about several different ones. Mostly on things like theming and moral lessons. On symbolism, they tended to disagree on a lot of things.

Oscar insisted the word “orange” in regard to the leaves during fall was most certainly symbolic of being “warm” and “cozy”, but Ozpin was insistent that Autumn was associated with time and age—death approaching.

“There was a crow!”

“Crows aren’t always symbolic of death!”

“When paired with an autumn description, it most certainly is!”

“Doesn’t your friend like crows? How would he feel about you denouncing them like this?”

Ozpin expelled a hearty laugh. “He’d probably say it was symbolic of, uhm… oh, well, he’d be wrong anyway. After all, the gun already symbolizes—” Ozpin cut himself off. “Actually, never mind what the gun symbolizes.”

“What? What do you mean? The gun symbolizes something?”

“Well, uhm… manhood.”

“Why is that so bad?”

“No, ehm…” Ozpin cleared his throat and distracted himself by stirring his cocoa with a spoon. “ _Manhood…”_

Oscar jolted, “WAIT, WHAT?! NO WAY!”

“That is what guns typically symbolize in short writings—”

“THAT’S GROSS! I REFUSE!”

“Ooh. You don’t want to know what the grapefruit symbolizes then—”

“Oh, that one’s easy! Womanhood. The man only views his wife as a purely sexual object. Usually, when women are associated with food, it’s due to that reason—some underlying sexism on the part of the male character. Or sometimes even the author themselves.”

Ozpin started choking on his hot coco halfway through his sentence. 

Oscar looked at him, concerned, “Are you okay?”

Ozpin nodded, clearing his throat, “Choked on a marshmallow, that’s all!” He stared at Oscar for a second, looked away for another, then went for a double take. “Anyways, um... Good... Glad we’re on the same page with that one.”

“Yeah, my Aunt Em pointed that out to me. She used to read to me every night when I was younger. Her favorite story is Goldilocks.”

“Simple tastes. I can appreciate that.”

They talked for another while longer. 

Soon enough, a fun debate had gotten a little more serious. It seemed they couldn’t agree.

Eventually, Ozpin crossed his arms over his chest, a bit like a pouting toddler. Oscar found it kind of funny that he managed to work up the Headmaster this much over _Fairytales_ of all things.

“I have to disagree with you! That fairytale is _decent_ at best!”

“Better than The Infinite Man!”

Ozpin actually _gasped_ at that.

Oscar felt a flare of pride then, feeling fully relaxed for the first time in since the whole thing happened with Cardin, “And besides! What do you know? You’re just some old man!”

“And _you_ a child! Why, we’ve barely even scratched the surface of what Fairytales have to offer!” Suddenly, the Headmaster was on his feet, hurrying to his shelves and yanking a few books from them. “We haven’t even delved into the other Remnant Tales or Grimm stories!”

“Grimm… stories?”

Ozpin jerked his head toward him like an owl. “Have you not read those?”

Oscar fidgeted in his seat. “Well, I… Haven’t read a lot of Fairytales, actually. We didn’t have a lot of books back on the farm.”

Ozpin brought a few books over and set them on the table. “So you haven’t read any of these tales at all?”

Oscar glanced over the covers. He picked one up and opened it to the index, scanning the titles for something familiar. He shook his head. “No, I don’t think so…”

“Then you simply _must_ read them.” Oscar watched as Oz raised his head, as though he just gotten some huge epiphany. “How’s about a challenge then?”

Oscar looked up at Ozpin suspiciously. “A challenge…?”

Ozpin walked back to his seat. “I will give you an access pass to the library, _and_ access to my own personal library here at the cottage.” He explained slowly, a twinkle grew in his eye. “And I want you to pick out three fairytales. Read them, then come back here and we can discuss them. We’ll run through them together, and eventually, we’ll find one the Fairytale we both agree is, quote, _The Best_.”

“For how long?”

“For however long it takes us to agree on something.”

“What if we never agree on something?”

“Then at the very least, you will have expanded your mind on the world of Fairytales. I’m sure there’s plenty of tales you haven’t even heard of before.”

Oscar hummed. He glanced down at the books on the table, and the tea set. Then Ozpin’s empty mug of cocoa.

And he thought for a second that this… Well, this had actually made for a very pleasant afternoon. He’s never had someone care about Fairytales as much as him before.

He could sit here in this cottage every week and discuss literature, surrounded by the smell of cinnamon and chocolate and the sound of ticking clocks.

He felt genuine excitement. 

“Actually...” Oscar shrugged sheepishly. “That sounds really, really nice. As long as you don’t mind.”

Ozpin gave him a warm smile, “I could never mind the company of a fellow Fairytale enthusiast! You’re welcome to come back any time, Oscar.”

Oscar blinked at his Headmaster, the excitement building in his chest. “Okay.” 

\----

  
  



	5. The Prank Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oz has a realization, and Oscar makes a drastic decision in order to keep his meetings with Oz a secret

The moment he returned to his office, he began making a schedule. He looked through his work log and gazed at his chart to see just _how_ he could make this work. He glared at it until his eyes became irritated from lack of blinking. How was it that he was a Headmaster at such a top educated school but he couldn’t figure out his own schedule? 

But thankfully, with Glynda’s aid—-though not without letting a few teasing words escape her lips—they were able to set a time and date. 

Two days a week, in the afternoon, Oscar would come over and discuss fairytales with him.

And for the next few weeks, that's exactly what they did. 

Sometimes Oscar would meet him at his office, and they’d walked together, always taking in the beauty of the Forever Falls scenery before stepping inside his cabin. Other times, Oz would walk into his home and see the boy already inside, sitting in his chair reading one of his books. 

It was a sight that made him smile. Having someone there was a nice change of pace. As cozy as his cabin was, it could at times be very lonely. 

Oscar provided something that Oz didn’t know he lacked, something that he didn’t know he was missing: company. 

Sure, he had James and Qrow. They were there for him as best friends often were, and Glynda got him through his darkest moments. Words will never be able to describe how grateful he was to them. 

But this felt different, maybe it was because he was getting used to Oscar’s presence. Maybe it was because Oscar was the first person he let down his walls for and chose to grow close to in these last thirteen years. Or maybe it was a combination of the two. But he was grateful for the boy’s company, nonetheless. He enjoyed their discussions of worldly topics and their challenge to find the best fairytale. 

_Children of Lir_

_The Frog Prince_

_The Riddle_

All discussions they had over tea or while they were cooking. Oz was trying to better himself when it came to preparing meals. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to cook. He just never cooked for himself, so he had honestly lost his way around the kitchen.

One afternoon, he and Oscar were having a debate on what each of the Ravens represent when Oscar’s stomach gave a rather loud grumble. It was then that Oz realized just how out of practice he was. When he went to make something, he promptly burned it. 

They laughed about it, Oscar in particular thought it was amusing to watch him fan the smoke from his now ruined lunch.

“Here, let me help,” Oscar offered, getting up from his seat and making his way over to the stove. And Oz could only watch in awe as the boy was able to save the mess he made.

His expression must have shown, because Oscar became rather embarrassed. “Sorry, I guess it’s just a habit… Oh! N-Not taking over when someone messes up! Just… _Cooking_ in general? My Aunt taught me at a young age.”

Oscar seemed to be constantly impressing him. From his knowledge of literature, his ability to match Oz’s own wit and banter when everyone else but Glynda fell behind, to his outstanding test scores that got him a place in Beacon in the first place, and now in cooking. 

“Well, it appears that I will have to sharpen my culinary skills, as to not be bested by a fourteen year old.”

Oscar snorted, a relaxed grin on his face. “Do you even know how to cook?”

Oz titled his head to the side, “As a matter of fact yes, I can. I just don’t do it that often.”

“Or very well.”

“Well now, that’s true,” Ozpin laughed.

Truly, this was the most his cabin has been used in these last thirteen years. 

.

.

.

“So what do you have today?” 

Oscar reached into his bag and pulled out three small leather-bound books, “‘ _It was morning, and the new sun sparkled gold across the ripples of a gentle sea_.’” 

He smirked, recognizing the tale immediately, “Ah, _Jonathan Livingston: Seagull_. A classic and a rather lengthy one. Favorite line?”

Oscar grinned at him and cleared his throat, “‘ _To fly as fast as thought, to anywhere that is. You must begin by knowing that you have already arrived…’_ The message of the story, that we can all be so much more than we believe, or are given to believe? I don’t know, it just… felt profound? Does that make any sense?"

Oz smiled, fondly, “It does. I find that the best parts of writing are ones that resonate to our very core.” He laughed as he refilled Oscar’s glass with more tea. “Though that could just be ramblings from an _old man_.”

Oscar choked on his tea, making Oz laugh that much more. "I did say that when we first met, didn’t I? I’m sorry—-about then! I didn’t mean—you’re not—” 

“Come now, Oscar.” He chuckled and handed Oscar another cookie. “I’m only teasing.”

Oscar smiled sheepishly, “So what do you think? Is _this_ the best Fairytale?” 

Ozpin thought for a moment, “Hmm, it has a rather good message about it. And it’s certainly uplifting.” 

Oscar tilted his head, “But?” 

He sipped his cocoa, shrugging, “We’ll just have to keep looking.” He smirked behind his mug when Oscar let out a groan of teenage bravado.

“Can’t we just… Agree that I’m right and you're just being ridiculous?”

He let himself indulge in a spout of laughter, “Where would the fun be in that? Besides, the tales that I have listed to you have also been shot down.” 

Oscar sighed, picking up _Jonathan Livingston’s: Seagull_ and setting it to the side. He held up a second book in his hand. “Alright, so this one is called _The Jade Stone_ …”

•  
•  
•

It was a Sunday evening. He had just gotten done arranging some last minute meeting with Leo over in Haven Academy. 

Glynda practically shoved him out the door, informing him that he needed to take a break and to go relax at home.

He tried to protest that there was still so much for him to do before she gave him _that_ look, the very look that told Oz this wasn’t up for debate. And he knew better than to even attempt a rebuttal. 

So he sighed and agreed reluctantly. 

Glynda nodded, firmly, stepped forward, straightened his scarf around his neck, combed her fingers through his hair —that didn’t make him blush— and sent him on his way.

He could barely contain the sigh of relief once he opened his doors and smelled the scent of burning oak wood, as the fireplace crackled in the hearth. His feet felt like lead as he shuffled over to his chair and sat down. 

He must have passed out the moment his head hit the soft cushion. 

When Ozpin regained consciousness, the comforting aroma of hot cocoa being brewed filled his nostrils. 

Disoriented, he let out a grunt, blinked his eyes open and found Oscar sitting across from him in the very chair that Oz purchased not too long ago. A plate of mini muffins on the table separated them. 

“Morning sleeping beauty.” 

Oz wrinkled his nose at that, “I think you have me confused with another fairytale.” 

Oscar scoffed, “Are you trying to imply that you are one?”

He rubbed the haze from his eyes with the back of his hand, “A fairytale? No. A Beauty? Absolutely _not_. Sleepy? _God yes_ , very much so.”

Gods, he was tired. 

Oscar blinked, as if he just realized the extent of his words. Oz watched as Oscar stood. “I know it’s not really my business…” He moved back to the kitchen to retrieve his mug from the brewer and handed it to him. “But is it really that bad?” 

“Being Headmaster or sleeping?” 

Oscar rolled his eyes

Ozpin smirked, “My job is…. _tiring_ to put it mildly. But I have been doing it for years now. It’s nothing I am not used to now.” He held the mug gently in his hand, “But there are times I can barely move, barely think and most importantly, barely sleep.” 

“That explains why you were passed out then.” 

Ozpin hummed. “Glynda thought it would be best for my health to get some rest.” 

Oscar smiled, his expression looked… _teasing_? “I’m glad I didn’t wake you up then. You looked like you really needed it.” 

Oz was grateful for that, he truly was. He swirled his mug in his hand, watching the dark liquid move in a steady circle before taking a sip. His eyes widened, and he looked at Oscar in surprise, “This is _very_ good.” 

Oscar cheeks turned scarlet at being addressed with such praise, “It’s my Aunt’s recipe. She used to make it for me when I was younger before we switched to tea.”

Oz swirled his mug around once more, taking another sip. “Well, give her my compliments. And thank you for letting me rest, by the way. It was long overdue.”

Oscar smiled, one that reached his eyes and ears as they, too, turned red. 

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

Oscar had just gotten back from Oz’s home, heading straight for the Library to continue his search for his birth parents, because he _refused_ to give up there had to be something about them, _somewhere_ , when he heard it. Three fourth year students. Talking just outside the entrance to the Library. They weren’t being overly quiet but even Oscar could tell they weren’t supposed to be there. 

“C’mon, do you guys really think I’m _that_ stupid?”

“Dude, we’re completely serious. How are you not?”

“Because? A haunted house in the middle of the woods? You guys realize how _ridiculous_ that sounds right?”

The girl amongst the group became defensive, “But it’s true! We went there the other day and the light was on. And there was smoke coming from the chimney! Even though no one has lived there for years!” 

Oscar watched the entire situation unfold, and he found it quite hilarious. He knew that there were rumors about the seemingly abandoned and haunted cabin deep in Forever Falls. Truth be told, that’s one of the reasons why he was so hesitant on going into it in the first place.

But now that had gone inside, now that he has spent hours there drinking tea and reading books and having discussion after discussion with Professor Ozpin, he found it amusing that a simple house in the middle of a beautiful forest could cause such a fuss. 

Apparently, he found it a little too much amusing because he let out a laugh that was louder than he meant to. 

The three students all turned and looked at him. “What’s so funny?” One of them asked, there was a touch of annoyance to his voice. “You think this is a game?”

Oscar opened his mouth to reply, to say how silly it was that a rumor like this got started in the first place, when there wasn’t anything to be afraid of. But then he stopped himself. They believed this rumor so earnestly. 

They feared that cabin Oz lived in so much that they believed it to be dangerous. If he admitted everything was fake and nothing was wrong, then there would be more people showing up there. If not only on a dare.

Oscar wasn’t a selfish person, his Aunt raised him with the right morals and he had the emotional capacity to never want to do anything bad, and that included being selfish, wanting things to just stay his. Wanting things to stay exactly as they were. Because Professor Ozpin wasn’t a thing to possess, he was an actual person and more so his Headmaster. It wasn’t up to Oscar who Oz chose to have come by his home. 

But—

He’d gotten so used to things. 

He genuinely enjoyed his time there, amongst the books and plants both old and newly required, bought specifically for Oscar to water and talk to when Oz wasn’t around. A place to escape, not that he wasn’t grateful for Ruby’s company, and especially when she brought her friends around. Though he definitely could use a break from Nora’s tackle hugs whenever she saw him. He was grateful for them, for their company. But Oz’s place provided something they couldn’t give him. 

Solitude. 

A warm and comforting solitude.

And for someone who grew up alone, with only his Aunt for company and the occasional trips to Mr Magorium's shop, being around dozens and dozens of students of all different ages could get overwhelming. 

Being able to step away from all that overstimulating chaos and just be by himself. To be in a quiet place, around someone that made him feel safe. It was the same feeling he got when he was around his Aunt on the farm. It was a comfort Oscar didn’t know he had needed until it was threatened to be taken away.

They wanted to believe in this rumor? 

Then Oscar would give them exactly what they wanted. 

He adjusted his bag against him and looked nervous feign nervousness, “Oh no. I was gonna agree with you. When I got inside I realized it’s far more dangerous than we thought.” 

And just as he expected, his fellow students, ones that were older than him and were supposed to be almost fearless, all widened their eyes simultaneously, “You got _inside_?”

“Wait— this shit’s actually real?”

“How are you _not_ dead!”

Oscar had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing, had to drop his head down to keep from smiling. “I barely had time to dodge before a knife was tossed at my head.” 

The Fourth Year girl’s face went pale, “A knife?”

“How’d you get _inside_?” 

Oscar shrugged, turning away from them. “I’m skinny. I just crawled underneath the house and got in through a crawl space. And then when the knife came at my head I practically dove back the way I came, and then the tunnel collapsed.” 

And with that, he turned and walked away from them, bowing his head and letting his lips quirk up in smirk. He could only imagine the look on their faces, as he left them there knowing that the rumor of Oz’s house would stay a rumor and he could continue to enjoy his safe space without worry of others disturbing that peace.

Oscar barely had time to put his books inside his locker, and the papers he printed out from the library safely tucked away into the folds of his binder, before he felt a presence behind him.

“Hey, Pines.” 

He froze, heart pounding in his ears, as he recognized that voice. Ever since the incident happened, Oscar made sure to stay as far away from Cardin as possible. Not that he had to do it that much, Cardin was avoiding him like the plague. Always absent during the classes he had with Oscar, never making eye contact, evading him in the hallways. 

Slowly, he turned around, and found Cardin leaning against the lockers, immediately Oscar felt his insides begin to vibrate, even though Cardin hadn’t done anything, heck his body language was not the least bit threatening…. But that still didn’t stop Oscar’s heart from hammering loudly in his ears. 

“W-What do you want?”

Cardin stood there for a moment or two, looking more nervous than Oscar had ever seen him, he opened his mouth, closed it, before opening it again, “You didn’t really go that cabin in the woods, did you?” 

Oscar blinked, “What?”

Cardin pressed the side of his forearm against the lockers, “I mean, he didn’t _really_ crawl underneath the house and almost get hit with a knife, right?”

 _That’s_ what he wanted to talk about? 

Cardin looked at him, but in a way that Oscar didn’t really know how to identify. “Well?”

Heart still racing, put on the spot, Oscar reacted with the first thing that popped into his mind, “Y-Yeah, I did.”

Cardin looked at him, the guy didn’t even move towards him, merely raised his hand before the little bundle of nerves that was twisting and turning in Oscar to finally snapped, and he booked it in the opposite direction. 

He had to leave. 

He needed to get out of there.

Oscar turned another corner before he collapsed to his knees against the wall. He was breathing just as ragged as he was the day Cardin almost…. He brushed his neck with his fingers absently, as the memory flooded through him. 

This was so frustrating. He hadn’t let Cardin bother him before, he hadn’t even been scared of him before it all happened. Cardin’s words, the cruel words he always said against him, the physical advances. Oscar hadn’t been frightened. In fact, he found it more annoying than anything 

But now this?

It felt like he was falling apart at the seams. 

And he hated it. 

“Oscar?” A concerned voice to his left made him turn, and there was Ruby standing there with Yang, and the rest of her friends. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” He hadn’t realized tears were streaming down his face until his vision blurred, “Cardin…”

Yang and Nora looked livid at the mere mention of Cardin’s name, “Did he mess with you again?” Yang spat out her eyes practically burning.

Nora stomped her foot on the ground. “Do I need to break his legs?” 

“Hasn’t he been avoiding everyone?” Ren asked quietly as he held Nora back by placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

Beside Ren, Jaune nodded, and looked as nervous as always to speak up, “Yeah, he hasn’t shoved me into my locker ever since that incident with…” Jaune paused, looked at Oscar and seemed to realize what he was about to say, “ _Well_ in a while.”

Pyrrha spoke up, “Would you like me to inform one of the Professors? Perhaps they could tell the Headmaster and…”

Oscar shook his head almost instantly, “No…” 

Oscar was already labeled as Ozpin’s favorite since he was always seen going to the Headmaster’s office and leaving with him.

Besides, his Professor was stressed out enough with his job of running this entire school. The last thing Ozpin needed was for Oscar to add to that stress because he couldn’t deal with one bully. 

“I’m fine, just… He has enough to deal with— I’m fine… I’m…” He blinked as a shiver ran down his spine, “I’m fine.”

His friends looked at each other, and Oscar could do nothing else but turn away from them. How embarrassing was this? Here he was, age fourteen, practically having a breakdown in front of his friends. 

“Oscar?” Pyrrha’s voice was low and gentle. “Would you like us to leave?” 

His heart left split down the middle, on one hand he did want that. He wanted to be alone so badly, to curl away from everything and just disappear. But on the other, he didn’t. The thought of being completely alone to mull in his fear and panic proved to be far worse than anything. 

His friends must have taken his silence for an answer because he heard their receding footsteps. He looked up, his heart hammering in his chest. “Ruby?” He said, his voice was barely above a whisper after the others were gone, “Can you stay with me?” 

Ruby gave him a kind but sad smile, “Of course.” And she sat next to him, for the next twenty minutes they sat there as the birds chirped and chattered in the distance.

“So he didn’t do anything?” 

“No.” He’d calm down some as he explained what had happened. “He just asked me if I really got into that cabin in the woods.”

“And what did you say?”

“That I actually did.”

“Did he believe you?”

Oscar inhaled deeply and let it out through his nose, “I don’t think so.” His heart began to hammer in his chest as he realized the gravity of the situation. “He didn’t look at all convinced like those other students did.”

Ruby squeezed his hand, “I still can’t believe you’ve been having tea with Professor Ozpin the last two months, and didn’t tell me.”

He felt guilt crawl into his heart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you think… It’s not that I’m not happy to be here, it’s just sometimes I need a break. I just… _everything_ is still so new and still so overwhelming that I just wanted a place….”

“To be alone?”

“Yeah....”

Silence fell between them.

“He’s gonna tell everyone that I lied. That I lied simply because I just wanted a place to be alone.” 

Ruby took a breath, and squeezed his hand once more. “Is that place really important to you?”

Oscar thought for a moment, thought about the reason why he lied in the first place was to keep everyone else from coming to the cabin, so that he would be able to have a space all to himself, a place to keep calm, a place to feel safe, with Oz as his only company, the only adult in this place that didn’t expect anything from him, that saw his best as enough, “Yes, it is.”

Ruby smiled at him, but it was a smile that made him tilt his head in confusion, it was a smirk of mischief, “Okay, then let’s make him believe it.”

.

.

.

“Ruby? Are you sure this is going to work?” To say that Oscar was more than a little nervous was an understatement. 

“You want Cardin to believe your story, right?” Ruby asked him, as the pair of them stood behind a cement wall, watching Cardin from a distance. 

“Well, yeah.”

“Then all you have to do is go over and ask him to come with you to the forest. And that’s when we’ll spring the trap and he’ll be so convinced that he’ll have the entire school believing the story.” Ruby explained, taking the moment to turn and face him, giving him a mischievous and comforting smile, “That way you won’t have to worry about anyone ever coming by Oz’s cabin again.”

She made it sound so easy. Like there wasn’t a conflicting bone in her body. 

Oscar didn’t know how to feel. 

One the one hand, he so badly wanted this to work, because what other option did he have to convince Cardin he was telling the truth? But on the other, he was nervous. Would a prank really be enough? Was Cardin really gullible enough to be scared of a prank? 

“You’re really willing to risk pulling off something like this to help me?”

Ruby placed a hand on his shoulder, and Oscar fought hard not to blush. “If it can help you keep your comfort place, then _yes_.”

Oscar let out a small puff of air. Never in his life has he ever known such kindness from someone his age until now. He never had that growing up. He never got to know the joys and wonders of having friends. So this was new to him and he couldn’t help but feel touched. “Thank you, Ruby.”

She grinned at him, giving him a thumbs up, while pushing him forward. “Now let’s go scare a bully!” 

“R-right!”

Oscar gathered his courage and walked out of their hiding place to approach Cardin.

“So you, uh, really wanted to know about it?”

Cardin jerked his head in Oscar's direction. An uncertain expression crossed his face. “Know ‘bout what?”

“The house. In the woods.”

Cardin’s face grew harder. He snorted. “Come on. I’m not dumb enough to believe that shit.”

“Uhh…” Oscar faltered, trying to think of what to say. 

He saw Ruby standing a short distance behind Cardin. She must have snuck from their hiding place to stand in his line of sight. She waved her hands in a silent, _Go on, go on!_

“B-but it’s all true!” Oscar blurted. “And I _have_ seen it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Cardin raised a brow.

“Yeah!” Ruby made a wide circle with her arms. Oscar squinted for a second, doing what he could to decipher the meaning. “I-it’s in a clearing, right at the center of Forever Falls! I can take you there.”

Ruby tucked her hands under her arms, wagging her elbows in the air.

“That is,” Oscar said evenly, realizing what Ruby was up to, “if you’re not too chicken.”

Cardin bristled. “ _What_ did you say?! I’m braver than anybody! And don’t you forget it, you little twerp!”

Two thumbs up from Ruby.

Oscar grinned. “Okay, well. Fine. I guess I’ll see you there tonight.”

“You’re damn right you will! Unless _you_ turn out to be the total chicken! Woods. Ten O’ Clock.”

“Got it.”

“ _Sharp_.”

“Of course. Until tonight then.”

Oscar watched Cardin stalk away before rushing over to Ruby. 

“Step one complete!” She beams. “Now for step two!”

He tried to smile and show as much enthusiasm as she was, but he just didn’t have it in him. Why did he have a bad feeling about this? 

* * *

Today was another day of exhaustion for Oz.. He set his glasses on the table and pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. “So you are comfortable with those changes to the festival?”

“ _Oz_.” James chuckled on the other end of the line. “ _This is **your** festival, my opinion doesn’t matter at all_.”

“Of course it does,” Ozpin argued gently, putting his glasses back on. “All of my friends' opinions matter to me.”

James snorted good-naturally, “ _You are too much of a people pleaser_.”

“Perhaps.” He knew it was true, he has always been like that, always willing to put others before himself. “So I will see you then?” 

“ _You always do._ ”

He ended the call, and sank against his armchair’s soft cushions, letting out a long sigh. He closed his eyes a moment and took in the soft crackling of the fireplace but willed himself to not fall asleep. Oscar would be arriving soon and the last thing he needed was to be asleep when Oscar appeared for their afternoon tea.

_Lord knows, my boy won’t ever let me live it down a second time…._

Oz blinked his eyes open and he sat up in his chair… a realization suddenly dawn on him.

Had… Had he just said?

He replayed his own thoughts in his head. And realized he had. He had taken Oscar out of all the hundreds of the students he had, and singled him out above the rest. In that moment he remembered Qrow’s teasing words when he popped by for a visit. They talked in the corner of his office while Glynda helped him organize papers. Oz with his hot cocoa and Qrow with his flask of alcohol. 

It has been a bit since Qrow came by and visited, but Oz was always glad to see him when he did have the time to stop by. Even if Qrow did have a habit of teasing him. 

Often, he would tease him about Glynda. About how obvious it was that he was smitten for her and smirk at him. Oz would quietly shush him with a glare, completely red faced. But lately he noticed that Qrow’s teasing on his infatuation with Glynda had stopped. He seemed to find something new to focus on.

It all started with a casual, off-handed conversation.

> _“So how’s Oz doing?”_
> 
> _Alright, well, mostly normal for them. They made for a strange friend group, truth be told._
> 
> _Ozpin raised a brow. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”_
> 
> _“Yeah, but you’re never honest about it,” Qrow quipped taking a swig from his flask. “Glynda gets right to the dirt.”_
> 
> _“It’s true,” Glynda smirks, good naturally, “and it’s the same as always. Always pretending to be a steel bar when he is, in fact, a tree branch. You know. Overworking himself. Causing chaos...”_
> 
> _“Now wait just a moment—!” Ozpin gawks incredulously_
> 
> _“But,” Glynda cuts in._
> 
> _Qrow tilted his head. “But what?”_
> 
> _“I have noticed that ever since Mr. Pine has started coming over, his mood has been more genuine.”_
> 
> _Ozpin grumbles, “As if it was ever ingenuine to begin with—”_
> 
> _“Who’s Oscar? Is that name supposed ta sound familiar? Wait. He’s not some new guy I’m supposed to know, right?’”_
> 
> _“He’s a kid,” Glynda replied vaguely. “A student.”_
> 
> _Qrow hummed. “Interesting.” He and Glynda shared a glance. A ‘we’ll continue this discussion later’ kind of look, like Ozpin was a child, and they his all-knowing parents._
> 
> _“You’re both unbelievable.”_

Ever since then, Ozpin had started noticing Qrow asking little, prodding questions every once and awhile.

> _“So. You and the kid. Kinda young to be comin to a school like this, eh? Fourteen, right?”_
> 
> _“What can I say? He’s a very bright young man,” Ozpin said, realizing that he truly did believe that. Oscar was a brilliant boy. There was no getting around that. He felt a strange sense of pride rise in him._
> 
> _“Hm.” And then Qrow dropped it until the next time they saw each other._
> 
> _“He got any parents?”_
> 
> _“I know he has an Aunt,” Ozpin said._
> 
> _Qrow hummed again. They moved on._
> 
> _The next time they saw each other, he asked, “You adoptin’ him or somethin’?”_
> 
> _Ozpin paused, and blinked several times. “No—well. Of course not. He has a family.”_
> 
> _Qrow made a noncommittal shrug. “He’s got an Aunt.”_
> 
> _“What exactly are you implying?”_
> 
> _Qrow smirked. “I don’t know.” But the look on his face made it evident that he did, in fact, know. Or, well… he knew whatever it was he thought he knew. “Haven’t seen you this happy in a while, Oz.”_
> 
> _“So you are implying something?”_
> 
> _“I think it’s been a long time since you’ve had to take care of a kid. That’s all.”_   
>    
>  _Ozpin paused again, his mug centimeters from his lips. “About as long as he’s been alive, I think.” He looked at Qrow and saw a genuine look in them that he couldn’t quite deduce._
> 
> _Then he blinked and the look was gone, and Qrow was off talking about what video games he and his nieces were playing recently. But the thought—and that look—resonated with Ozpin in a way he couldn’t untangle._

Not until now. Not until this moment.

_My boy._

Ozpin stood up from his chair and walked across the living room, over to the picture frame resting on the mantle.

_It’s been a long time since you’ve had to take care of a kid._

He picked up the delicate frame and wiped the dust from the glass with slightly shaky fingers, revealing four little, happy faces.

He could hear their tiny voices. Their laughter.

Some part of him wanted to chuckle, another part wanted to cry. The mix of emotions were a hurricane in his head. Love, guilt, worry, nostalgia, fear—

He hadn’t seen them in so long.

Iclyn would be almost twenty by now. She had no recollections of him, probably. She probably didn’t even care that he existed. Or if she thought of him at all, it was only in the worst light. Salem would have made sure of that.

And yet, even so, the thought of moving on haunted him. Was it fair to devote himself to some other child?

Did he deserve to have that kind of connection with someone again? _Family_?

Ozpin remembered how he’d felt after the divorce. How he’d felt her mouth against his ear, saying to him, “ _You deserve it_.”

Deserve what?

Everything that happened. All the pain he’s ever felt.

And yet even worse:

> _You deserve it. Nothing_. 

She took everything. And some part of him felt she was right. That he _didn’t_ deserve anything. Certainly not the joy Oscar brought him.

> _What?_ She mocked him inside of his head. She was a little voice he could never seem to be rid of. An infestation of negativity. A plague, really.
> 
> _You think you can replace us that easily? Please, Ozpin. What have I always told you? You’re nothing without me. You’re nobody. You don’t deserve anything. So toil in that loneliness. In your insipid existence._
> 
> **_Your_ ** _boy._
> 
> _Don’t make me laugh,_
> 
> _As if he wants anything to do with you._
> 
> _This is just a silly game he’s playing. Just to mess with you. He’ll probably leave you, too._

Ozpin felt a fire burn in him. _You’re wrong._

> _Am I?_

Ozpin grit his teeth, his eyes stinging.

> _Say it again, then. Prove it._

The memory of copper flooding his mouth came at full force.

He choked on real air, sputtering on it for a second. He felt the irrational need to pull off his scarf, like it was restricting his airways, squeezing down on his throat like a serpent.

His hand pressed against the old scar there, swearing that instead he would find a cruel slit and warm blood.

_Breathe, breathe. Easy. Easy._

_It’s just a scar now._

_It’s only a scar._

He grounded himself to the comforts of his home: the smell of books and cinnamon, the crackling fireplace, the rustle of the tree branches outside. He was safe. He would always be safe here, tucked away in the woods.

He settled his breathing and took a second to calm his thundering heart.

That’s right. Nobody could hurt him out here.

The woods had always been completely—

_“ **AAAAAHHHHH**!!!”_

Ozpin jumped about ten feet in the air, “ _MOBY DICK_!”

He turned towards the window in shock. He carefully placed the picture frame back where it was and hurried to peer outside.

Another long scream pierced the air.

Why did he have the sinking suspicion that Oscar was somehow involved in this...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TheAngelfoFate — two chapters in one day, ya’ll are spoiled! XD I don’t really have much so say except I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated down in the comments down below and we will see you all later


	6. The Prank Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oscar has a realization, and Oz has to put on his adult pants and be a teacher

Later that night, Oscar made his way to the woods. He waited there, leaning against a tree, waiting for Cardin to show up. He had to admit it, this forest was beautiful in the daylight, with its red leaves and crimson pathway, but words couldn’t describe how creepy it was at night. The worst part of it was the silence. There was nothing, no sound at all. It was like someone had muted the TV. 

The eerie atmosphere of the forest was enough to creep anyone out and Oscar was about to think Cardin was a no show when he heard the deafening sound of footsteps crunching against the leaves. And there was Cardin, looking tired and unamused. 

And the two of them walked together in such an awkward silence that Oscar was practically dying to break it. The tension was there and it made Oscar want to scream. But he told himself not to, Cardin was already annoyed as it was. If he wanted this to work, silence was the best option. 

So he remained silent. 

About half way into the woods, they stopped.

“Give me a second,” Oscar said, pretending to be out of breath.

“Are you serious?” Cardin rolled his eyes. “Ugh. Fine.”

The second he turned away, Oscar saw Ruby motioning him from behind a nearby tree trunk. He took a careful, slow step back towards her to keep the leaves from crunching too terribly and slipped up beside her.

She silently pointed up and Oscar nodded, bending down and cupping his hands. Ruby stepped up onto his palms, grabbing hold of the lowest branch. Once she was up, she extended her hand down and pulled him up, too.

“Hey, let’s go already, alright? Kid!” Cardin called, suddenly noticing that he was gone. “Kid?!”

He and Ruby climbed higher into the trees, silent as stalking cats. They’d spent the better part of the afternoon finding the most climbable branches. The trees were so closely knit together that there was an entire pathway of just linked branches they could slip along, so long as they went one at a time.

They hid in the trees and watched as the atmosphere slowly started to take a toll on Cardin. They watched him as he made his way to the cabin, while periodically calling out Oscar’s name, a clear edge of nervousness to his voice.

“H-hey! _Pine_!”

Cardin looked like he was a cork bottle ready to pop he was so high strung. Even from in the trees, Oscar could make out the shaking shoulders and cautious body language.

He approached the cabin and promptly let out a shriek, as he fell backward. 

Oscar looked on from his tree branch, wondering what had spooked him. He noticed the lights on in Ozpin’s home.

_Oh, no! I thought he’d be asleep by now!_

He watched Ozpin’s silhouette come to the window. The curtains fluttered like little ghosts at his presence, his tall, broad-shouldered form undoubtedly intimidating against the glowing cabin light and the darkness of the woods. At least, it was if one didn’t know him like Oscar did.

He wasn’t sure what Cardin was making out of Ozpin though. A ghost? A serial killer? A witch come to lure him in and cook him into a pie?

Whatever it was, Cardin freaked. He smacked a hand over his mouth and bolted behind a tree, cowering there. 

The sight would have brought anyone that had been as severely bullied by Cardin the satisfaction they craved. 

But for Oscar, he felt the exact opposite, he didn’t feel glad that Cardin was now feeling the same type of fear he had been put through when Cardin had nearly killed him. 

Instead, he felt… _pity_?

He wasn’t sure.

Oscar turned to Ruby, trying to signal her in the darkness. She’d slipped down to a branch below him, preparing to pounce down right in front of Cardin.

She looked up and must have taken his wild gesturing as a go-ahead. He wasn’t sure, but he swore he saw her pale face give a brief nod of understanding before, suddenly, she was gone from sight.

Oscar saw her drop down with a startling “ ** _BOO_**!” that rang throughout the entire clearing.

Cardin shrieked in a way that made Oscar’s ears ring. The only thing to rival the noise was Ruby’s laughter.

He grimaced, seeing Ozpin’s form hurry from the window.

_No, no, no, no!_

Oscar slipped from his branch and landed beside Cardin, only making him scream further.

“Wait, wait, it’s just me—”

“And don’t mess with my friends again!” Ruby exclaimed over him. “Or we’ll scare you even _harder_ next time! _Grr_!”

“Shh, Ruby, wait—!” Oscar glanced around helplessly. He saw Ozpin’s approaching form and ducked down, his arms over his head.

Dread filled Oscar’s entire form. _He’s never going to forgive me for this! Oh, why did we choose to do this so close to his house—! No, actually, why did we do this at all?! Now I just feel terrible!_

“Now what in the world is going on out here?!” There it was. Ozpin’s voice. In a scolding register Oscar had never heard until now.

“AHH! PLEASEDON’T **MURDER** ME!” Cardin screamed, cowering on his hands and knees.

“Young man, I can assure you, I don’t want to murder any of you, save for possibly whosever idea this was. In a disciplinary manner, of course.” 

“W-wait,” Cardin raised his head to finally look at the man. “P-Professor _Ozpin_?”

Ozpin sighed. There was a beat of silence. 

Oscar closed his eyes, trying to melt into the shadows. 

“ _Oscar_.”

Oscar flinched. Then, slowly, he accepted what was to come and rose from his hiding place. He tried to send an innocent smile, but Ozpin fixed him with a _look_ that made him immediately drop it. “I’m… sorry…?”

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” Oscar shrunk further into himself and Ozpin turned away, heading back toward the house. “Tea, anyone?”

He was being scolded by an adult, for the first time in his life. And he felt awful about it. 

They shuffled after him, pausing only once they reached the porch.

“Ruby. Oscar. Wait out here for a moment, won’t you?”

They didn’t have it in them to argue. Both he and Ruby sent each other a glance and swallowed at the same time, watching as Cardin entered the house after Ozpin.

* * *

“Are you alright, Mister Winchester?” he asked as soon as the door was closed.

Cardin paused. A shocked look crossed his face, which had gone shock-white with terror. “Um… yeah.”

Ozpin sighed. “I feel as though I owe you some sort of apology. I never considered these woods would be used to pull pranks. Perhaps I should have put more windchimes on the branches to keep students from climbing them.”

Cardin stared at him like a wide-eyed deer.

“That was a joke.”

“Oh…”

“Tea?”

“Don’t really like hot drinks.”

“I find just holding the cup can help calm your nerves down. Go ahead and take a seat if you want. I’ll be right back.”

Luckily, Ozpin had put on a kettle earlier, so tea was done in an instant. He found Cardin sitting at one of the chairs by the fireplace, watching the flames.

Ozpin handed him the cup of tea and sat in the chair across from him. “Now. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“What does it matter?” Cardin asked, turning a sharp gaze on him. 

“What do you mean?”

“Somehow, _I’m_ the one who’s going to get in trouble for all of this. That’s what always happens. You and your damn teachers always assume the worst.”

Ozpin didn’t mind the sharp tongue. He kept his cool. “I see.”

“Just suspend me already.”

“Why for goodness sake would I suspend _you_ for this mishap? You appeared to be the butt of the joke in this situation—”

“I don’t know. For one lame ass reason or another.”

“I get the strange feeling that you _want_ to be suspended.”

“So?”

“Well… Why do you want me to suspend you so badly?”

“Look, it’s pretty damn simple. You like the kid more than me. He’s younger than me and smarter than me and I don’t exactly got the best track record. My grades are shit, my professors think I’m a waste of time, so just get to it. I ain’t smart enough to be at this dumbass school anyway. Kick me out. _Suspend me_. I don’t give a flying shit.”

“Cardin,” Ozpin said gently, “I have never thought any of that for a _single_ moment.”

Cardin didn't look convinced in the least. “Yeah, right. Cut the shit. You just let me in cause my dad pays to have me here.”

“Mister Winchester, I let you into my school because I genuinely believe you have the capability to be a tremendous student.”

Cardin scoffed, looking away, looked anywhere else but at him.

“I remember the essay you wrote on reptiles.”

That made Cardin lift his head a little.

“It was about how pet stores tend to favor mammals over cold-blooded species, and how they had a history of mistreating them—even if they didn’t intend to mistreat them. I learned that Vale doesn’t have any regulations regarding the safety of cold-blooded animals from your essay. I was moved by your point to emphasize that reptiles had so much to offer if people were willing to look beyond their leathery exteriors. That, even covered in spines and scales, reptiles have hearts and minds, too.”

Cardin shrugged. “Whatever. It was just some dumb essay—"

“It was a _profound_ essay.” Ozpin tilted his head to better look at him. “And that profoundness is why you’re in my school. Not because of your father’s money. I see a spark in you, Cardin. I’ll ruthlessly kick and claw to make sure that you can see it, too. As long as you let me.”

“I…” Cardin’s expression looked distant now. “I almost killed him. That day…”

Ozpin nodded slowly. “I know.”

Cardin finally turned to look at him, his eyes _desperate_ and _angry_ and filled with tears. “So _why_ are you giving me a damn chance at all?! I should be in juvie! Expelled, _something_!”

“Because I can see you regretted it. Because you’re _scared_ , Cardin.”

“Every teenager in the world is fucking scared! And they don’t…!” Cardin shook his head. “They don’t do what I almost did, okay?!”

“Why did you do it?” Ozpin asked softly.

“Because he _is_ better than me!” Cardin yelled. “That’s the kinda kid my dad would _kill_ to have! Nobody gives two fucking _shits_ about Cardin Winchester!”

Ozpin shook his head. “ _I_ care, Cardin.”

Cardin stood up, furious, angry. “Yeah fucking right—!”

Ozpin stood up as well. “You had a ball python. You talked about her in your essay—”

“So fucking what?!”

“Her name was Spindle.”

“What does that matter?!” 

“She was an angry thing. She always bit you whenever you tried you to pick her up—”

It seemed Cardin just wasn’t getting it, “So—?!”

“ _But you tried anyway_!” Ozpin said, in a harsher tone than he meant. He stepped closer and Cardin grew tense, like an animal backed into a corner, all bared teeth and muscle.

“Nobody else would try! She went from owner to owner, had rat bites down her spine from where live rodents chewed on her! You spent weeks soaking her and medicating her and helping her shed her old skin! And she bit you and she bit you, but you kept _trying_!” And suddenly, he lurched forward and Cardin tensed, grabbed at his back, pushing against him, _furious_ , like preparing to wrestle Ozpin on the floor.

He seemed to genuinely want to. He very nearly did, Ozpin nearly stumbling back onto the floorboards. But instead, Cardin let out a cry of frustration and melted against him, burying his face into Ozpin’s shoulder. He was trembling and sobbing. Angry. Always _angry_. And broken.

“And eventually you could hold her,” Ozpin said quietly. “I would like to be able to help you, Cardin. Like you did Spindle. Will you let me do that?”

He didn’t get a truly verbal answer. A small melt of the shoulders, a lull in the clipped sobs. Then Cardin struggled against him again, less violently, and Ozpin let go.

He wiped his face and, without looking at him, went to the door. “I’m going home.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Ozpin sighed, looking down at the broken teacup, which had crashed to the floor when Cardin fought against him, spilling tea everywhere.

Still, he let it slide and went to speak with the other two.

Ruby was a stuttering mess of apologies. Saying that she was merely only doing this for Oscar, because Oscar had such a fear of Cardin now after what had transpired between them. And that she was only trying to help but she never meant to get Oscar in trouble.

Ozpin consoled her, told her that everything was fine and that he’d let it slide if only to get her to calm down.

In a whirl of red, she was out the door, saying that her dad and uncle wouldn’t like her being out so late, her body was all jittery and nervous, she was looking for a way out so Ozpin allowed it.

And, finally, that left only one.

* * *

For a moment there is nothing but silence. Far worse than it ever was outside. The forest was eerie but this? This was different. This cut deeper and it hurt more. 

“ _Oscar_.”

Gods the _disappointment_ in Oz’s voice. 

This was the first time he’s ever heard that tone from Ozpin. And by God was it gut wrenching. He wasn’t even yelling and yet Oscar felt his ears ringing. 

Heart hammering in his chest, he leaned forward in his chair and curled into himself. “I’m sorry.” And he was, he truly was, for everything that had just transpired. “I’m sorry please don’t be… _I’m sorry._ ” 

He didn’t realize his body was shaking until he felt Oz place a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Deep breaths.” Ozpin instructed, holding out a warm cup of tea for him to hold more so than drink. “Breathe in and take your time.” 

Oscar did as instructed. He brought the cup to his nose and breathed in the aroma of cinnamon and herbs. 

He hesitated as he looked up at Oz, expecting to see the same look in his eyes as before, but sighed in visible relief once he found only kindness.

“About what happened—”

Ozpin held up a hand. “All I want to know is why? Of everyone here, the last person I would ever think would do something like this would be you, Oscar.” 

Oscar swallowed thickly. He wanted to disappear right then and there. 

“What prompted this?”

Oscar dug his nails into the cup. “I… I told the other kids the rumors about your home were true and… Cardin didn’t believe so Ruby… I thought that—“ He didn’t finish, but it was fine; Oscar knew he didn’t have to. 

Oz inhaled a breath, “Why?” 

Oscar’s body shook. “I— I wanted… I was going to tell them the truth… but I thought— I thought more people would come by and this place… I’ve really liked coming here, taking care of the plants, drinking tea and talking with you.” Oscar gave the man a sheepish smile at that, “I didn’t want to lose that.” 

There was a flicker of emotion that came across Oz’ face when he said that. It was gone with a simple blink of his eyes but from what Oscar could tell in that split second it was there was…. _fondness_? 

He bowed his head again, “I’m sorry. I won’t ever do it again.” 

“As I said before, it’s not me you need to apologize to. I can bring the three of you into my office tomorrow morning and we can discuss this together—”

“No,” Oscar cut in, “please. I want to apologize on my own if that’s okay.”

“Only if you’re sure. I know you and Cardin didn’t leave off on the friendliest note. I don’t want the two of you to wind up in a situation like last time.”

“I know, but,” Oscar shook himself, “I want to handle this.”

That was all the convincing Ozpin needed. “Very well. I’ll let you do it on your own terms, then. Just do me one small request?”

“Sure.”

“Ask Cardin if he’d like to come over for tea sometime.”

•

  
•

  
•

“Seriously, Ruby, you need to apologize,” Oscar protested, pushing Ruby along as soon as math class was over. “What we did wasn’t okay.”

“I know, I know,” Ruby groaned as he shoved her out the door. “I don’t see what the big deal is! That guy is so mean to everyone!”

“Still. Two wrongs don’t make a right, you know?” There was still so much tension. They had to clear the water and get rid of all this bad blood before it got too thick for them to handle. “We should try to be… I guess… _better?_ ”

“Uggghhh, _fiiiine_.” She finally started walking after Cardin. Once they caught up to him, she called nervously, “H-hey, uhm…” 

Cardin turned around, sizing them up with a skeptical look in his eyes. “What? Professor Ozpin come tell you guys to apologize? Doesn’t really mean anything if you’re told to do it—”

“No!” Oscar cut in immediately, arms raised in defense, “We’re doing this because we want to.”

“You shouldn’t.” Cardin turned around, about to walk away again. “I deserved it.”

Oscar took a chance, just a chance, as he reached forward and caught Cardin around the wrist, “Wait! Um… Really, Cardin. Please? Just… at least let us try to apologize.”

Cardin rolled his eyes. “Fine. Get it out of your system, I guess.”

Ruby bristled and Oscar put a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. “Seriously,” he said, trying to sound as earnest as possible. “We’re so sorry for last night.”

“Yeah,” Ruby said, finally giving in with a sigh, “it was pretty uncool of us…”

Cardin shrugged. “Great. Now can I go?”

“ _Right_ ,” Ruby said dejectedly. “See you in seventh period, Oscar.” Ruby waved goodbye and Oscar turned to head down the hallway himself.

“Hey, Pine.”

He stopped, turning back to Cardin. “Yeah?”

“Mind if we talk a sec?”

Oscar swallowed nervously. “Uh… I guess not?”

“Not the biggest fan of the red girl. Her sister hates me. I mean, for good reason, but still. You’re… less annoying to talk to. Just wanted to say, quickly. Get it out of the way. Don’t forgive me for what happened that one time.”

“What? Why?”

“Cause you shouldn’t. Cause… I want to be better than that.” Cardin rubbed his neck. “I want it to remind me. So. _Don’t_. I’m choosing.”

“Choosing what.”

“Not to bite.”

And with that, Cardin walked down the hallway, leaving Oscar in confusion. “I… have no idea what that means…”

“Of course _you_ wouldn’t. You're some dumb kid.” Cardin smirked, walking away. And for the first time since this whole thing started Oscar noticed that there was no malice intent behind it like there had been before. “Oh also… _Um_..” Cardin looked like he was having a mental debate in head, his expression ranging from guilt and that kind of uncomfortableness that leaves a person feeling so exposed. 

“I’m sorry for what happened. What I did, I’m… working on it.”

And with that Cardin walked around a corner towards science class and was gone.

Huh...

Well, that was unexpected. 

But Oscar smiled regardless, as for the first time, it felt like a step in the right direction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TheAngelofFate -- Ohhhhhh boy! Having to post this bad boy in two parts was interesting! Oscar being a good kid and not being able to really go through with the prank? And Oz having to strap in and be a parental adult to his students while also being a very understanding man is always something I enjoy writing. 
> 
> PhantomDragon321 -- We wanted to give Cardin some character development that we never got to see in the show! He's got some things to work on for sure alisndlasindlainsdlineinerinasn
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated down in the comments down below and we will see you all later


	7. The Festival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oscar and Ozpin go to a festival.

Ozpin stood looking out his window over the sea of students running through his courtyard. The halls of Beacon were going to be packed with even more students than before, for several children of Atlas Academy were arriving for the festival that they’d been planning for the past couple months. 

There was nothing special about this event, it was just something Oz did at the end of every Quarter. He’s done it for the past couple years ever since he became Headmaster. He would have invited several students from Heaven, but Leo had informed him ahead of time that he was having one of his own and that he wouldn’t be able to come. 

And the school over in Vacuo did the same a long time ago. In fact, they never even got back to Oz with an actual answer. He called the Headmaster there, left several messages, but nothing. Oz was sure the man meant no disrespect, but being completely ghosted, it was hard for him to not feel like he was being shunned.

So this year, it would only be some students from Atlas, not that either Ozpin or James were complaining. The last couple years, the Festival had been far too crowded with the additional students from both Haven and Atlas. 

With only two schools to worry about, it made planning a whole lot easier.

Sure, it had still been a hassle. Far too many things to arrange, a place to be chosen, safety regulations to be met, stalls to be prepped, games to be set up—but Ozpin always felt like the struggle and the sleepless nights were all well worth it.

“You’re not going to spend the entire Festival up here, are you?” Glynda asked, looking out of the window beside him. 

“What are you still doing here, Glynda? If you stay up here, you’ll miss the buses.”

“You know I never take the buses.” She shudders. “I’d rather drive myself. Which is why I suspect you always arrive late as well. Would rather be in the comfort of your own car. Although, I always feel like you could enjoy it a lot more if you went earlier.”

“I always arrive in time for the firework show.”

“I know, but it’s your festival. You’re the one who helped kick start the whole thing to begin with.”

“I didn’t make it for me. I made it for the students.”

“Well, that certainly doesn’t stop the other professors from having a good time.”

Ozpin chuckled, spying Oobleck running through the crowd with Port to get on the bus meant for just teachers. “No, I suppose not. What about you? Are you going to head down now or later?”

“You know me,” Glynda replied, “not a big fan of crowds. Even if this one is a lot smaller than usual with only the Atlas students to accompany us this year. And I don’t exactly favor all of the celebration and sweets and fireworks.”

Ozpin snorted and Glynda sent him a glance.

“What?”

Ozpin sent her a knowing smirk. “I seem to recall certain someone favoring candied apples and funnel cake. And for someone who doesn’t like fireworks, you sure did cheer rather loudly last year when they went off.”

Glynda crossed her arms, an evident flush across her face. “I don’t know what you're talking about. I did no such thing.”

“Denying the truth doesn’t change facts, Glynda.”

Glynda snorted and he chuckled. “Shall we at the very least see them off?” She inquired, gesturing towards the door. 

Oz smiled, “Of course.”

They made it down to the courtyard and waited til each student got on the bus single file when he felt it. 

He felt something like a spike going through him, and it immediately made him feel uneasy. He hadn’t felt this type of feeling in a long while. Like there was a weight against his chest that made him steel himself.

“Glynda?”

“Hm?”

“Has Oscar gotten on the buses yet?”

Glynda looked at her clipboard, “Hm, Miss Rose is getting on Bus 12 right now.”

“Was Oscar with her?”

Something seemed to cross Glynda’s mind at his words because she blinked, “Huh, now that you mention it, I don’t believe so. The buses are almost full, if he doesn’t hurry, he’ll be late.”

Over these past couple months, Oz liked to believe that he knew Oscar well enough to know that he wasn’t the type to ever be late for something. Oscar was meticulous and punctual, from the moment he stepped into Beacon, he dedicated himself. He wouldn’t just not be here if there wasn’t a reason. 

“You know as well as I that Oscar isn’t one to do something like this. ‘Late’ isn’t in Oscar’s dictionary.”

Something was happening, his heart was pounding and his head was racing with worry. And he didn’t know why. His hands shook and he had this sudden urge to find Oscar, to search for him and make sure he was alright, to find out what was wrong if he wasn’t. 

“I’m going to find him. I know he enjoys his alone time but no fourteen year old should stay in a campus all by himself.” 

He quickly hurried down the pathway into the Forever Falls. If there was one place Oscar would be, it would be back at the cabin.

Though, even with Ozpin’s long legs, it was quite a distance to hustle.

He couldn’t quite deduce this panic. It reminded him of something from a long time ago. Traversing the streets of Vale once, he found himself in a situation rather akin to this one.

He went out with the girls after a long day of work. Maybe he was a little too tired to try keeping track of them all. But Salem was busy, and the girls had been begging that he take them out. Keeping children inside all day did them no good at all.

The panic set in when he counted only three heads out of four.

“Idalia!” he called desperately, searching around for his second eldest girl. “Idalia!” 

There’s a feeling a parent gets when their child is out of their line of sight. It leaves them breathless, in a constant panic until they can make sure their child is once more safe and sound back in their arms. And in that moment, all those years ago, Oz couldn’t help but feel exactly that, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think of anything else but Idalia, so lost in his desperation to find her and scoop her into his arms and never let go. 

And he didn’t breathe again until he found her by the popcorn machine talking to the vendure who had just accepted her ticket for some free popcorn. He let out a sob, holding her close, making sure to not take his eyes off any of his daughters the rest of the night, making a mental note to keep this from Salem.

Now after all this time, he was feeling that emotion again, but with Oscar. And he didn’t know what to do with it, or how to feel. He just needed to know that Oscar was okay. 

At last, Ozpin made it to the cabin, throwing open the door. “Oscar!” he exclaimed, bending over and panting.

He glimpsed Oscar sitting there in the chair by the fireplace, be all means looking cozy and content.

“Ozpin?” Oscar sent him a worried look. “Are you okay?”

“What— What are you doing here?” Ozpin gasped out raggedly. He stood up, managing to catch enough of his breath to speak properly. “The buses will be leaving any moment now!”

“Oh, right,” Oscar said hesitantly. “I wasn’t actually gonna go to the festival? I thought that maybe I could stay here and read, if that’s alright?”

Ozpin took a breath to compose himself, absently placing a hand over his heart and squeezing. Then when he felt his heart rate slowly fall to an acceptable beat, he went over and sat on the coffee table across from Oscar. “It’s more than alright, but why on earth would you not want to go? Ruby and all of your other friends will be there.”

“Well…” Oscar winced and shrugged. “I don’t know. They all had each other, and I didn’t really want to be part of a big group. I don’t know. I don’t want to bother anyone. When there were festivals back home, there was only just me and my aunt, so… I guess that’s just what I’m used to.”

Ozpin’s face softened, smiling sadly. “Well… would you like to come with me, then? Just the two of us? No big groups. Plus, you get quite a few benefits when you’re the one who created the whole celebration in the first place.” He laughed. “I never spend all of the tickets they give me. It’ll help to have someone to share them with.”

Oscar looked away hesitantly, thinking to himself. “Well…”

Oz leaned forward a bit, a glint in his eyes, “You know, they have a face painting station.”

Oscar made a confused face. “Yeah…?”

“If you come, I’ll let you pick something.”

Oscar let out a nervous laugh, “I think I’m a little too old for face paint.”

Ozpin smirked. “I’ll let you pick something to paint on me.”

That got Oscar up. So quickly Oz was surprised the boy didn’t get whiplash. He started yanking Ozpin towards the door. “Well, what are we waiting for then—!”

Oz scoffed, trying to hide his grin and fake protest, “I meant something small—!”

“Nope! You can’t go changing the rules of the game! By the end of the night, your face is going to be covered in face paint if it’s the last thing I do!”

Ozpin chuckled to himself. 

Well, at least it got Oscar moving. The last thing he wanted was for the boy to sit in a lonely old cabin in the woods by himself all night while all of the other students were off having fun. It didn’t feel right to him. Ozpin simply wouldn’t allow it.

He glanced down at his watch, checking the time. “We’re going to have to hurry. Let’s just hope the buses didn’t take off already.”

They went into a sprint, hurrying through the woods as fast as they could in a desperate attempt to catch the buses. Something about it was apparently very amusing to Oscar, because he started bursting out laughing, which only made Ozpin start laughing. He glanced over his shoulder.

“You’d better hurry!” Ozpin teased.

“Your legs are at least twice as long as mine!” Oscar shouted.

Before long, they made it back to the parking lot.

“Oh no!” Oscar heaved, sliding to a halt beside Ozpin. “Did we miss them? Oz—wait, Oz, where are you going?”

“We may have missed the buses, but I do have my car keys!” Ozpin beckoned him along. “Come on!”

Oscar ran after him as they dashed across the parking lot. Eventually, they came to a sleek, dark green car. A '67 1800S Volvo to be exact, and it was just sitting there!

Oscar paused a little. “Whoah.”

Oz let out a proud hum, “Gracie was a gift, I’ve had her since I turned eighteen.” 

He remembered the moment his mother gave him this vehicle. She was a birthday present, she had him wear a blindfold and everything before she made him step out into the street. They had little money back then, but his mother had somehow gotten enough to get him this Volvo car, the very same one he had been looking at days before, she even painted it green for him, as an added bonus. This car has been there for him through the worst of times of his life, hence the name ‘Gracie’, after his mother.

“Impressed?” 

Oscar wheezed out a laugh, “Yeah, I didn’t take you for having such a classic car.” 

He snorted “Well thank you. Now come on!” Ozpin hopped in, already fastening his seatbelt. Oscar hopped into the seat next to him. “If we don’t hurry they’ll start the fun without us!”

He pointed ahead of them, “After those buses!”

“Indeed!” Ozpin said, laughing. He turned the key and Gracie revved up. Soon, they were tailing the buses in no time at all. “Goodness!” he chuckled to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. He was still a little winded, but it was mostly from adrenaline.

“What?” Oscar asked.

“I haven’t ran like that, possibly since… high school.” He laughed again. “I may be out of shape.”

“Too much cocoa, Ozpin?” Oscar teased.

Oz pressed a hand to his heart and pretended to look offended, “There’s no such thing!”

“With you? Never.”

Ozpin sighed. He rubbed his face, realizing that his cheeks hurt a little. “I haven’t smiled like this—for this long—in… a very long time.”

At the corner of his eye, he saw Oscar glance at him. “Me, neither,” he said after a bit. “My Aunt was always nice. Just… it was hard to be open with her sometimes.”

Oz gave him a knowing look of sympathy, “I understand. Sometimes, it’s hard to be completely honest with our loved ones. Especially family.”

“Yeah,” Oscar said, shrugging. “Thanks, by the way.”

“For what?”

“For coming to get me. Anyone else would have let me be. How did you even know I wasn’t there on the buses?”

“Instinct.”

Oscar laughed.

But Ozpin’s face was completely flat, “I’m serious. I always know when something is amiss!”

“So you’re a psychic now?”

“More like a nagging grandmother. If you didn’t decide to come to this on your own, I might have dragged you by the wrist screaming.”

“Why...?”

“Because I wanted you to be there. To have fun. You’re fourteen. You should allow yourself to have fun.”

“Well… so should you. Even if you’re not a teen like me. Adults should be able to have fun, right?”

“That’s the thing, Oscar. For the first time in over a decade,” Ozpin shrugged, somewhat unable to believe it himself, “I am.”

* * *

Upon arriving at the festival grounds, Ozpin parked with ease between these two cars that were definitely fancier models than his Gracie but they most likely lacked the heart she had. “Now you be good, Gracie,” He said while placing a hand on her hood, as they both got out, and shut the doors behind them. 

“Are you talking to your car?”

Oz smiled, his shoulders shaking a little with suppressed laughter, “Absolutely not. I have no idea what you are talking about.”

To his right, Ozpin saw the buses a little bit away, and the hoard of students.

“How about we go to a less busy section, hm?” Ozpin led them to a different gate and flashed his card. He was allowed in without hesitation and given a hefty roll of tickets. He promptly split them in half and handed the other section to Oscar.

“So. Where to first.”

“Facepainting,” Oscar replied without hesitation.

Ozpin chuckled. “And here I was hoping you’d forget.”

Oscar grinned mischievously, “Nope! Now where do we head?”

Ozpin checked the small map he was handed. “This way, it looks like.” He led the way, the two of them weaving through the crowd until they found the face painting booth. “I’m going to deeply regret this, aren’t I?”

“Maaaaybe!” Oscar pushed him towards the booth.

A bubbly woman greeted them and asked what they wanted.

“You can’t see what I pick!” Oscar announced, gesturing Oz to turn his back to him. “You have to turn around while I choose.”

“That wasn’t a part of the deal—”

“It is now!”

“Well, if we’re just going to change the rules whenever we please, then you have to get one, too!”

“Fine! Now don’t peek!”

Ozpin humorously rolled his eyes while Oscar picked out facepaint. 

After a good while, he finally said, “This one! Definitely this one!”

“Now it’s my turn to pick one for you.” Ozpin scanned his eyes over the different pictures. Eventually, he came to a decision and pointed to one. A small pumpkin. He got the feeling that it was nowhere near as drastic as the one Oscar picked out for him, though.

That dread only grew even greater when he was asked to remove his glasses and push his hair all the way out of his face.

Oscar sat in the seat next to him. Another woman was already there to start his face paint.

His own painter went right for a large brush and black paint. “Close your eyes, please.”

“I should be afraid, shouldn’t I?” Ozpin chortled, closing his eyes. The paint was cold and felt strange against his eyelids. “Do I want to know?” 

The girl giggled, “Probably not.”

Oscar’s paint job was done long before his. Ozpin could hear him breathe a shocked “Oh my god” before he went into fits of giggles.

The brush tickled across his forehead and brows, then all the way down his nose. He registered neat swipes, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what Oscar picked out. Something taking up half of his entire face, apparently.

All he knew was that his sink would definitely be stained black and grey at the end of tonight when he went to wash this off.

“Okay. Here we go.”

A mirror pressed into his hand and Ozpin lifted it to his face.

“No!” He gawked in horror. 

Oscar started howling beside him as Ozpin’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. He turned his face this way in that, taking it all in, trying to process everything at once—the blacks and whites and greys. The nose, the whiskers, the mask, the ears... 

“Oscar Pine,” he said in a serious tone, “I appear to be… a raccoon.”

Oscar doubled over laughing, nearly falling right to the ground. He had to use the chair to prop himself up and stay standing. “Yeah, that’s kinda what I was going for!”

His laughter made Ozpin finally break. He snorted. “Perhaps I’ll wear this all of the time from now on. Do you think Glynda will like it?”

Oscar let out a long laugh that reached his eyes, “I’m sure!”

“Well, Mr. Pine, now that you’ve successfully adorned my face with racoon whiskers, what would you like to do now?”

“Hm, well… I am a little hungry.”

Ozpin hummed, glancing around. His eye caught on something. “Fancy some funnel cake?”

Oscar nodded and they crossed the crowd to the funnel cake stand. They watched the dough be gooped out of a funnel into oil, quickly fried, tossed into a basket, and then generously dusted with powdered sugar. It was placed on a throwaway plate with wrapping paper and Ozpin exchanged two tickets for it.

“Whoah. It’s huge. How can anyone eat all of that by themselves—?” Oscar cut himself off as Ozpin tore off a big piece and stuffed it in his mouth. “Ah, that’s right. I guess people with a sweet tooth can handle overloads no problem,” He teased a grin on his face. 

“Oh, nonsense!” Ozpin swallowed his mouthful of funnel cake. “As if I can really finish all of this on my own! Here!” He offered the plate down to Oscar. “I was raised with manners and that includes sharing!” 

He carefully took off a piece and ate it. 

“Yup,” he confirmed, “Sure is funnel cake.”

They walked along, chatting, crunching on bits of crispy, slightly sticky bread, taking in the sights as the day stretched on. 

Suddenly, it was evening and the sun was starting to get low in the sky. At that point, they sat down to get some actual food in their systems. As they finished eating, Ozpin realized that the festival would be winding down. Soon, most of the rides would be closing, and before that happened, he wanted to go on at least one.

“What about the ferris wheel?” He asked, pausing to throw away a plate and wrapper. Hot dogs from these events weren’t exactly good. They had the texture of some kind of wet sponge, and the mustard somehow always tasted fake, but for some ungodly reason, Ozpin loved them.

Oscar paused from wiping the chili from his fingers to make an uncertain face. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t like heights?”

“I almost fell off a ferris wheel once when I was really young. They’ve kinda freaked me out ever since.”

“Well, if you don’t want to go on it, then maybe we can pass the time by playing some games—”

“Wait,” Oscar cut in. “Well… Do you really want to go on it?”

Ozpin shrugged. “I don’t mind us finding something else to do, Oscar. It’s up to you.”

Oscar hummed, staring up at the ferris wheel. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been on one. Maybe it’s not as bad as I remember?”

“So?”

Oscar mulled over this for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and nodding. “Yeah. Let’s try it.”

They waited in the line for a good ten minutes and were among the first to get on and take a seat. They slowly rose up and up as more people filled the seats.

Oscar grew visibly more and more uncomfortable with every passing minute, staring over the edge of the railing with a nervous look on his face. By the time they were at the top, his face had gone pale and he looked about ready to scream to get off.

It was an expression Ozpin recognized. It made him give a soft chuckle. “My daughters never really liked ferris wheels, either. They used to make that same face.”

That caught Oscar’s attention. He tore his eyes away from the ground looming far below to look at him. “You have daughters?”

Ozpin felt his brows pinch together. “Well… Had. That is… I still do but I just don’t see them anymore. I haven’t seen them in over fourteen years. And yet the memories are… still fresh as ever, in my mind.” He turned his head, staring out into the horizon line. The wind was icy this high up, and blew his hair in wild directions, even while still pinned under his glasses.

He forgot he hadn’t lowered them back down after the face paint.

It was strange to see the world in such color, rather than tinged slightly brown. 

He looked at Oscar, finally really looking at him. Without the tinge, Ozpin realized how bright his eyes were. His face was morphed into an expression of worry that Ozpin also recognized. He’d seen it a few times in Oscar, before now, just never this clearly.

“Come now, I’m not that fragile. You don’t have to look at me that way.”

“Like what?”

“Like my father used to.” Ozpin tilted his head in thought. “I couldn’t call it a look of pity. But sadness always seemed to run through him when he looked at me. Especially after the divorce—there! Just like that! You did it again.”

Oscar seemed taken aback. “Oh, um…” He shrugged his shoulders, sheepishly. “S-sorry?”

Ozpin squinted his eyes at the boy, knuckle raised to his chin. It truly was… eerie.... He was suddenly struck with a sense of déjà vu, “You know, you look almost exactly like—”

Suddenly, the ferris wheel jerked forward and Oscar gave a yelp. He slipped from his seat to squeeze himself into the space next to Ozpin.

Ozpin chuckled. “You know, you’re not supposed to stand up at all when the ferris wheel is moving.”

“Don’t care! I’m not sitting on this death trap in a seat all by myself! If we’re going down, I’m taking you with me wherever we land.”

“Oooh. I hope it’s right on that cotton candy booth.”

“Right. Maybe the cotton candy will break our fall.” Oscar rolled his eyes.

“It just might. You aim for the spinner—-I think you’re small enough to fit in there—and I’ll try to land on the already bagged ones.”

Oscar burst into laughter. “You’re kind of a weirdo, Oz.”

“What? You just now figured that out?”

They go in a full circle and find themselves going back around. Oscar clenches onto Ozpin’s sleeve, leaning against him, far away from the door they’d entered the cart through.

“It’s not going to open on it’s own.”

“I know! But I don’t trust it!” Oscar hisses, like the door could hear them and was looking for a reason to swing right open and let them both fall out of it.

They reach the apex of the ferris wheel. Oscar is practically squishing Ozpin against the other wall of the cart. The space was starting to feel very cramped and very small. 

“Now might not be a good time to say this, but I am claustrophobic.”

There was that look again. The expression that made Oscar look like his father and make Ozpin feel slightly uncomfortable. “Sorry. But also, how can you be _claustrophobic_ when we’re literally in the sky right now?”

“Same way you can be afraid of heights even though there’s walls to keep you from falling. Speaking of walls,” Ozpin laughed, “I think you’re trying to get me to eat this one.”

Oscar glanced up at him, realizing that he was crushing Ozpin into the metal walls of the compartment. 

“Sorry!”

And yet he didn’t move, seemingly too afraid to. They went back around for a second time.

Ozpin tried to inhale, Oscar’s elbow sinking right into his ribs, almost painful. He was a little sweaty now. The cramped space was starting to get to him.

He shifted his weight and Oscar yelped. “Don’t move! You’re shaking the whole cart!”

“Oscar, everything is fine. I’m just—”

“How many times is this thing going to go around!” Oscar exclaimed as they went for a third loop. Ozpin could feel his body trembling. “I want off!”

“Oscar, please, try keep calm—”

Oscar shook his head vigorously.

And then, that’s when it happened.

The ferris wheel stopped at the top.

“W-Why’d we stop?” Oscar stuttered, fear clear on his face, his cheeks paling and eyes seemed to dilate. Oz knew what this was and he knew it was only a matter of time before it all boiled over. He gently placed a hand on Oscar’s shoulder, 

“Oscar—“

But Oscar didn’t seem to have heard him, his body was shaking and his breathing was labored. “We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Oscar moaned, swallowing thickly as the fear gripped at him and wouldn’t let him go. “We’re gonna be stuck up here forever!?”

“No, of course not!”

Now Oz was getting scared. But not in the way that Oscar was. Heights have never really been an issue for him. No, that wasn’t it. He’s never seen a child have a panic attack to such a degree. Not even his own daughter ever freaked out like this from heights. 

Then to Oz’s horror, Oscar began screaming, “THAT’S IT! WE’RE STUCK IN A METAL BOX UNTIL THE END OF TIME!”

And just like that, his claustrophobia started kicking in. “Don’t say that,” Ozpin glanced around the cart, which felt like it was starting to close in. “You’re starting to give me a fright now.”

Oscar swallowed, pupils blown and body shaking. “I’m sorry.” He gasped out, trying to breathe, “I’m so sorry… I—“ He bent forward and gripped his hair with shaky hands and pulled. 

Oz didn’t like that, he didn’t like that one bit. 

Raising his hands, he gently pulled Oscar’s hands away from his hair and then gripped the boy’s shoulders. The urge to embrace this child, to comfort him and shield him from his own fear was palpable, it was so insisting that he almost gave in, but Oz knew boundaries, knew when to comfort others with just words, and when to embrace when those words could no longer reach the person.

So he chose words, instead. “It’s okay.” He said, voice soothing and soft. “We’re going to be okay. The gears probably got stuck or jammed. It’s an easy fix, we’ll be out of here soon.” 

In a blind panic, Oscar reached up and grasped the sleeves of Oz’s suit and dug his nails into the fabric. “I know, _I_ _know_ … I’m sorry—” 

Oz smiled sadly, “It’s alright. Just breathe with me, alright? In and out. I’m here, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

There were frightful tears in Oscar’s eyes, as he looked up at him. “Promise?”

Something in his heart lurched, and suddenly he was the one who felt like having a breakdown. But he pushed through that and smiled a reassuring smile. “I promise.” 

And they sat there for a while. Oz’s hands never leaving Oscar’s shoulders and Oscar’s never leaving his sleeves. 

Then thankfully, after another minute or two, Oscar’s breathing leveled and the tremors in his body lessened. And when Ozpin deemed it was safe to let his hands drop from Oscar’s shoulders and Oscar did the same, though there was some hesitation on both their ends, something that Oz took note of but decided to say nothing about. 

“Better?” He asked softly. 

Oscar nodded, “Y-Yeah… Sorry about that…. I’m really not a huge fan of heights.” 

“I can see that.” Oz gave the boy a look of sympathy, “But there is nothing wrong with having a phobia.”

Oscar sighed, obviously feeling frustrated, “I just feel so silly.” 

“Your fear of heights is no less than my claustrophobia.”

“ _Still_ , h-how long do you think we’re going to be stuck up here?” Oscar asked nervously.

“Hopefully, not for long.” Ozpin looked out over the horizon again for a moment or two. 

“Hey, Oz?”

“Hm?”

“How come you don’t see your daughters anymore? Are you not allowed to?”

Ozpin felt a sadness go through him. “No. My ex-wife had a restraining order put on me that lasted for… quite a while. By then, a few years had passed, and I was sure my daughter’s wouldn’t even remember me.”

Oscar tilted his head to the side, “Did they?”

Ozpin shrugged his shoulders, “I truly don’t know. I simply stayed away. After all, going to see them meant that I would have to see her, too.” He hesitantly rubbed his neck behind his scarf. “And that was the last thing I wanted to do.”

“Was she that horrible to you?”

Ozpin furrowed his brows. “Well…” Events from over fourteen years ago flashed through his head. Every mean word, every strike, bruise, and threat. Ozpin felt his stomach burn and his heart seize.

Oscar noticed his hesitation. After a beat, he said, “I didn’t really get to know my parents. They died in a car crash. Although, technically, I’m adopted, so...”

Oz blinked at this, true he had wondered why Oscar lived with his Aunt, but he knew it wasn’t his place to pry. “Well, that made them no less your parents, I’m sure.”

“No, yeah, of course. There’s just… Sometimes I wonder why my birth parents gave me up? Or… _who_ they were. And sometimes I wonder what it would be like if the car crash never happened. I don’t know.” Oscar sighed and sank into the ferris wheel seat. “It’s hard to explain. I miss two pairs of parents that I didn’t even get to know… Maybe it’s stupid—”

“It is absolutely _not_ , Oscar. Those are completely understandable feelings to have. Even sometimes, I wonder how different things could have been with my daughters. Wishing I could have done better. But we can’t change what’s already happened. The most we can do is live on.”

Oscar looked up at him with a smile. “Thanks. I... I needed to hear that. Although, I have to admit, it’s a little hard to take you seriously in that face paint.”

Ozpin snorted, taking a finger and smearing the tip of it over his forehead and saw a trail of white and black paint. “I completely forgot about it. I must look ridiculous right about now.”

“No,” Oscar paused and shrugged, a teasing grin on his face, “Well, maybe a little bit.”

A sudden start from the ferris wheel cut their chuckling off short. 

“Oh _thank_ _god_.” Oscar sighed heavily, falling against Oz, relieved. “We’re moving again.” 

“See? I kept my promise.” 

“Thank god… _Never_ again.” Oscar closed his eyes and swallowed dramatically.

“Come now, it wasn’t that bad.” 

Oscar turned his head, which was still leaning against his shoulder and narrowed his eyes. “It was and you know it.”

“But we got through it, didn’t we?”

Oscar puffed out his cheeks, “Yeah, I guess.” His gaze suddenly went to the window and Oz followed it. It was dark out already, the sun was already setting as the last orange and purple rays of the day faded and the stars began to show. 

“I always found sunsets peaceful.” Oscar murmured, his voice sounding tired as he adjusted himself a little. 

“I do as well.” He muttered back. Oz felt a peace he hadn’t known in a long time, watching the sunset with Oscar leaning against him. Salem had never liked sunsets or sunrises, said they always either depressed or hurt her eyes. And sadly, neither had his daughters for the same exact reasons, well… except for one. 

He remembered the first day he had taken Primrose to see one. It was just shy of a month or so after she was born, he held her gently in his arms and made sure she was at the proper angle to see the sun rising beyond the various other houses and rooftops, but also making sure her little still developing eyes wouldn’t be damaged by the sun's rays, and she loved it. 

Oh, did she love it, her eyes brightened and she let out this joyous laugh. 

And in the next two years, that was what he did with her. And he loved it, cherished that so close to his chest. And then Salem took that away from him and ever since, he hasn’t been able to watch a sunrise without feeling an ache in his chest. 

But this, sitting here with Oscar. Felt different. He felt like he could breathe again, he felt like things didn’t hurt as bad as they used to. “It has been a very long time,” He muttered to himself. And it was true, it had. It had been a very long time. And then as quickly as the peaceful moment had arrived, it faded as the ferris wheel came to a stop. Oscar jerked away from him and scooted back a bit to give Oz room to stand. 

“So, now that we have survived that,” he said while clearing his throat, in a louder voice, “What now?”

He let Oscar pick a direction once they were a distance away from the Ferris Wheel. They used up their tickets one by one on various treats and games. They played hoops while snacking on candied apples and then tried one of those target games that Ozpin was distinctly terrible at. He knocked down two targets, enough to earn him a smooth plastic, green bangle. He wasn’t much of a jewelry man, so after one look at it, he made a quick decision. 

“Here.” Ozpin slipped the bangle on Oscar. “For good luck.”

Oscar’s eyes widened in surprise. “Really? But you won it, you should keep it.”

Oz waved his hand dismissively, “I know, but I’m choosing to give it to you.” 

Oscar looked at the object on his wrist and smiled, gratefully. “Thank you.” 

Oz nodded once and stepped away so that Oscar could have his turn. Oscar sent him a thumbs up and steadied his aim at the targets. 

Surprisingly, he ended up getting more than half them down.

A surprised chuckle escaped his lips, “Good aim.”

“My Aunt taught me how to shoot a gun when I was five,” Oscar said, but then he abruptly added, “It also totally could have been the Good Luck Bracelet though! One hundred percent!” Oscar took the bear from the vendor, stared at it for a moment or two, and handed it to Oz.

“Here,” Oscar offered with a grim. “For good luck! What are you going to name him?”

Ozpin stared at the bright orange bear in his hands. “Hmm… Lucky.”

“Oh very original,” Oscar teased with a snort

“Well excuse me. _Monsieur_ Lucky, then.” Ozpin held the bear securely in his arms so as to not drop it or lose it. 

Soon, it was completely dark out, the strings of lights and flashing neon colors of the rides and booths brightening the pathways.

“Where are we going?” Oscar asked.

“To that hill up there. That’s usually where me, Glynda, and Ironwood watch the fireworks.”

They climbed the grassy hill, which overlooked the festival. 

“Now, I wonder where—”

“Oz!” The call came from behind him. “There you are. We’ve been looking for you all day.”

Ozpin turned. “Oh, good evening! Glynda, James.”

“Where have you—? Holy shi...!” Glynda smacked a hand over her mouth. She started to make a noise Ozpin rarely heard from her: pure, hysterical laughter. “What is on your face?!”

Beside her, even Ironwood stifled some chuckles. “I actually think it’s an improvement.”

Glynda reached out to touch his face, tilting it a little so she could get a better look. Ozpin was almost glad for the facepaint, because it meant Glynda wouldn’t be able to see the blush that was no doubt spreading across his face. “Well, it certainly is… something. You two seem like you’ve been having fun.” She gestured to the bear in Ozpin’s arms.

“Hey!” came a lazy droll. They turned to find Qrow approaching. “How’s it— oh, hell. Looks like I missed the party!” He stared at Ozpin with a humored look on his face, which was, admittedly, not much better.

“Seems I did as well,” Ozpin smirked. “You’re not trying to turn into an actual crow, are you, Qrow?”

“You shoulda seen what I chose for Ruby and Yang!” Qrow howled with laughter.

“Well, now I feel like the odd one out,” Ironwood commented, with a small smile. 

“Same here,” Glynda agreed, crossing her arms. 

“Jokes aside, there was actually a reason for me finding you all.” Qrow grinned as he took a sip of his flask, “Fireworks will be starting soon.”

“Yeah, we know,” Glynda said, “that’s why we’re standing up here. This is where we usually watch them.”

“Ehhhhh. I’ve gotta better spot. Also, lemme bum some alcohol off one of ya.”

“Qrow, you know there’s no alcohol permitted during these events.”

“Oh, c’mon, Oz. None of the professors ever come to these things sober. Save for maybe Barty. He’s got a different addiction with the whole coffee thing. Seriously, you two. Fork ‘em over.”

Ozpin gasped as both Ironwood and Glynda reluctantly offered two seemingly innocent canisters. “I can’t believe this! James? Glynda?”

The two of them looked at him with guilty smiles, “Sorry, Oz.”

“And you’ve done this every year?!”

They both laughed sheepishly. 

Glynda stiffened, “These festivals are just a little.... Tiny bit…”

“They’re childish, Oz,” Ironwood said bluntly.

Ozpin resisted the urge to sulk in a corner somewhere. “I thought they were plenty fun...” he mumbled sadly, kicking at the grass. “I didn’t make this for any of you anyway. I made it for the students. So I’m not upset.”

“He’s upset,” Glynda whispered in a not-so-quiet voice.

“ _Definitely_ upset,” Ironwood agreed.

“Well,” Ozpin said, perking up, “at least Oscar is having fun! Right, Oscar?”

Oscar nodded, with a genuine smile. “Yeah, totally!”

“Oscar’s _fourteen_ , Oz,” Glynda said. “We’re old people. Our idea of fun is grumbling about things on social media while being slightly tipsy.”

“Actually, that’s Glynda’s idea of fun,” Ironwood said. “I’d rather be at a shooting range.”

“I’d rather be drunk,” Qrow said.

“You’re _already_ drunk.”

“Oh, good. I’m having a good time, then.”

They’re bickering continued as they made their way through the crowd of students and out to a wide open field. It was only when Oz sat down and Oscar plopped down next to him did he realize how quiet Oscar was being. “Are you alright?” 

Oscar then to him, and chuckled nervously. “Yeah, sorry! It’s just…”

“Just what?” He pressed gently, allowing Oscar the chance to tell him on his own.

“I’ve actually never seen fireworks.” Oscar rubbed his neck, clearly embarrassed to have said it aloud. “I mean, it really wasn’t something I grew up with. And I know from reading books that they are really loud and loud noises tend to make me jumpy.”

Ah, so that was it. 

Having grown up in Mistral, of course Oscar wouldn’t have ever seen fireworks With the scenery in that area of Remnant being primarily nothing but tall, dry grass, it would be far too dangerous to set off fireworks; the risk of a wildfire was far too great. It made sense. Still though, Oz couldn’t help but feel foolish for not realizing it sooner. “I’m sorry, Oscar. I hadn’t realized.”

Oscar shook his head, frantically. “No, no! It’s not your fault. I should have been honest before.”

Oz smiled sadly, leave it to Oscar to try and make this his fault. “Would you like to go find Miss Rose? I know that being in the company of friends can greatly help one’s confidence.”

Oscar turned his gaze to the ground and appeared to be in deep thought, then shook his head once more. “I think I’m okay here,” Oscar said. “It’s just that, well… when do you think they’re going to—”

Before he could finish his sentence, there was a loud whistle and an explosive POP!

At first, Oscar jumped, jerking his head in the direction of the sky. He grabbed a hold of Oz’s arm in a panic. But then, upon seeing the great burst of white spreading across the sky, sprinkling down, he quickly relaxed. “Wow…” Oscar breathed out as a bright blue firework followed suit.

They sat there, watching the sky explode with brilliant colors, gasping in awe.

When a particularly big firework went off, or an impressive series of them, Glynda and Qrow would let out a joyous hollar. 

“BIGGER!” Qrow slurred, “MAKE EM BIGGER! _YEAAAH_!”

“Qrow, you’re not even looking in the right direction,” Ironwood commented, “That’s the ferris wheel you’re staring at.”

“Oh...” Qrow shuffled around into the right direction. “ _BIGGER_!”

Ironwood snorted and shook his head before pushing him into a sitting position beside Ozpin. “Maybe you should sit down before you fall over.”

The firework show went on for about twenty minutes. They stared on, mesmerized by the whole thing. Soon enough, Oscar stopped flinching at every pop and seemed to untense enough to enjoy himself.

By the time it was over, the crowd applauded and cheered.

Oscar turned to him, eyes wide with excitement, “That was _amazing_!”

Ozpin laughed at Oscar’s child-like wonder, his eyes holding a fondness that hasn’t been there in a long while. “I’m glad you liked it.”

By the time the last of the embers disappeared from the night sky, it was late, around eight 0’clock, and the festival was now drawing to a close. Glynda called out for all the Atlas students to follow Headmaster Ironwood on to the buses, while the students from Beacon scattered about so that they could all head home. 

“Is he going to be alright getting home?” Ozpin asked, gesturing in the direction of Qrow as they walked back to their cars.

“I’ll get him there,” Glynda sighed clearly annoyed with having to deal with a drunken Qrow again. 

Ozpin raised a brow at her. “Should you be driving?”

Glynda rolled her eyes at his concern, “I only drank a few sips, calm down. Yeesh, sometimes you’re worse than my mother, Oz.”

Oz narrowed his eyes, face completely serious, “I do worry.”

“Just get Oscar back safe, alright? I’ll handle this idiot.” Glynda pulled Qrow in the right direction. She paused briefly, glancing back at Ozpin. “And, um… Have a good night, Oz.”

“You too, Glynda,” Ozpin smiled fondly. His eyes might have lingered on her a little longer than he intended. Oscar grasping at his sleeve seemed to break some kind of spell.

“We were heading back?” Oscar prompted, giving him a look.

“What?” Oscar asked, wondering what Oscar’s teasing grin was about.

Oscar bumped him with his elbow. “You like her.”

“No!” Ozpin yelped. He cleared his throat to cover his sudden outburst. “I don’t know what you mean. Anyway— _Gracie_! Right, the car. Where did I park her again?!”

He led the way back to the car and they got in. Ozpin sighed and sank into his seat, rubbing his hands down his face. The face paint was dry and crusty at this point, flaking off at a mere gentle touch.

Oscar climbed in next to him and with a grin. “So does she know you like her, or—?”

“Oh, _hush_ ,” Ozpin said, glad for the racoon face paint for the second time that day. “It’s not like that—”

“It’s a hundred percent like that. Professor Goodwitch is smart. She probably knows you’ve got a crush on her.”

“I most certainly do not!”

“You should ask her out.”

Ozpin laughed and blew a raspberry. “You’re mad. And this conversation is done. I will not be discussing my love life with a _child_.”

“I’m not a child! And she probably likes you, too!”

Oz shook his head, disagreeing completely, “Likely not.”

“Why do you think that?” Oscar asked, growing oddly defensive.

“How could she? I likely drive her up a wall! She probably thinks I’m… Plus, I haven’t—I’m not—I can’t…” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Well… have you asked her?

“No…”

“Then how do you know?”

Ozpin finally looked up. “I just… I just do.”

Oscar furrowed his brows. “ _Monophobia_. It means a fear of abandonment. Of being left alone.”

“What does that have to do with—?”

“I think you’re afraid that if you ask, she’ll leave.”

Ozpin felt something like ice grab his heart. He distracted himself by revving up the car and pulling out of the parking lot. After a while of silence, he decided to speak. “It’s… _Pistanthrophobia_.” 

“Huh?” Oscar looked at him with a confused look on his face.

“About Glynda. You said, it’s…” Ozpin tried to repeat himself, but found that he couldn’t. He shook his head, “Never mind. Forget I said anything.”

* * *

When they finally got back, it was incredibly late. Ozpin parked and glanced at Oscar, realizing that he’d fallen asleep. He reached over to nudge his shoulder. “Oscar?”

Oscar groaned and lifted his head. “ _Wha_?”

“We’re back. Do you want to head to your dorm?”

Oscar muttered something and slowly rubbed his face.

Ozpin sighed and opened his car door, and stepped out. He closed it and made his way over to Oscar’s side.

The boy groaned as the cold air hit his face. “I could just sleep in here. It’s comfy enough.”

“Come on, Oscar, sleeping in a car, even if it is comfortable, is not ideal. You’ll likely get a crick in your neck,” Ozpin explained logically, gently shaking Oscar’s shoulder, but the boy remained exactly where he sat, “don’t make me carry you.”

Oscar chuckled sleepily, “Oh, now you _have_ to,”

Oz scoffed loudly, shaking his head, “Are you being serious right now? You’re fourteen—?”

“I’m not heavy.” Oscar lifted his arms. “Besides, you offered, now you gotta do it.”

Oz rubbed at his forehead, “I know you are perfectly capable of _walking_ on your own. You’re ridiculous.”

“Don’t make it weird. You’re making it sound weird—”

“It is a bit weird.”

“Good thing we’ve already established that we’re both weirdos.”

“We’ve established that I am. But you’re starting to fit the bill.”

Oscar sent him an innocent smile and Ozpin finally conceded. “Fine.” He turned around, offering his back.

He felt Oscar grab on and slowly raised himself, kicking the car door closed behind him.

“You’d better hope nobody sees us.”

“Why? Cause then they’ll know we’re weird, too?”

“I do have a reputation as the Headmaster to keep hold of. Giving students piggyback rides might not be a good look.” 

“You’re so tall though! I can practically see Auntie Em from way up here. How do you breathe at this altitude?” Oscar yawned and set his head on his shoulder. “Air is thin. I’m gonna need an air tank. Blegh. I’m dying.”

Oz did his best to keep from laughing, but Oscar was proving to make it difficult, he had to admit it, the boy was and could be very comedic when he was around people that made him comfortable. “I’m carrying a strange fourteen-year-old boy on my back across a parking lot in the middle of the night with racoon face paint. That is what is happening right now.”

“Oh, I know how to make this _better_.”

Oz stopped in his tracks, “Please, don’t—”

“Qrow gave me glow sticks.” Oscar shuffled on his back. A second later, Ozpin heard a dozen crackles next to his ear. 

He winced at the offending sound, “How many do you have?”

“Like… _twenty_. Here.” Oscar started sticking glow sticks together and making a necklace. He slipped it over Ozpin’s head. Then another. And another. “Turn left up here, my room is just a few doors down.”

By the time they made it to Oscar’s dorm, Ozpin had a thick layer of glow sticks around his neck. There were so many that Ozpin didn’t really need to turn on a light to see in Oscar’s dim room.

It was plain. There was nothing. Literally nothing, save for the quilts on his bed and the books on the desk. Either Oscar had chosen not to personalize his room or he just didn’t have many things to decorate, Oz didn’t know.

“You don’t seem to have much in here.”

Oscar hummed, “No, not really. I pretty much just had one suitcase to take with me.”

Ah so it was the latter then. 

Ozpin kneeled down at the doorway so Oscar could hop off.

“Make sure you wash your face.”

“Same to you,” Oscar laughed.

He stood there hovering over Oscar, unsure of what exactly to do, “I suppose I’ll see you for our next Fairytale meeting.”

“Yeah,” Oscar slurred out, curling into the sheets.. “G’night, Oz. Thnk you...” 

Oz smiled to himself as Oscar’s face drifted off into a peaceful slumber. “You’re welcome, I’m so very glad you enjoyed yourself..” 

Then without even thinking about it. Almost on impulse, his hand moved, reached forward, and then stopped. 

His hand was mere inches away from Oscar’s head. Oz hesitated for a moment, only for a moment before the urge, the instinct took him over and he was brushing Oscar’s messing hair out of his face. He let out a little gasp of surprise when Oscar leaned into it with a small smile, completely unaware of Oz’ action. Though asleep, he still seemed coherent enough to lean into a gesture of affection.

Because that’s what this was, right?

A gesture of affection?

“Good night, Oscar.” Ozpin whispered before standing up and headed back to his car to retrieve _Monsieur_ Lucky. 

Teddy bear in hand, he began his journey back through the woods, the glow sticks around his neck lighting the way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phantomdragon123 -- And YOU get fluffiness!! And YOU get fluffiness! EVERYONE GETS FOUND FAMILY FLUFFINESS!!
> 
> TheAngelofFate -- We did warn y’all this chapter was long! Have like 8,000 (if I remember correctly) of pure fluff and father-son bonding! 
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated down in the comments down below! We'll see you guys in the next one! Toodles!


	8. The Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ozpin is faced with a decision.

_Dear Auntie Em,_

_I’m… not really sure what to write? I know I could just call you? But you always taught me that words on paper were easier to say then words from your mouth. Plus the signal from Beacon to Mistral was completely static the last time I tried to call you. So I’m choosing this instead. It’s hard to believe it’s been a full year since I came to Beacon. I’m still struggling with all my classes, so it really doesn’t feel like that at all, I still feel so new._

_Everything still feels so new._

_I’m just glad I have Ruby. She’s been there for me when I needed her the most, along with her friends, who I guess are my friends now? They make all my fumbling around worth it. But they can’t make it all go away completely and I would never expect them to. So when they can’t I’m glad I do have somewhere to go, when I need to be alone, or more so when I need to breathe. You know how I get when I get too overwhelmed with my own emotions._

_Ever since I had that incident with Cardin, the bully I told you about? (by the way he’s actually not like that anymore! He even said he was sorry! Progress, right?) Well ever since then Professor Ozpin has been letting me stay at his cabin during the afternoons! He’s actually a really nice guy? He was the one who helped me when I got lost on the first day of school._

_He likes vintage cars like me, he also likes reading the same fairytales that I do. He even challenged me to find what Fairytale book is the best! And he bought all this stuff for my dorm room! Posters for my wall, shelves for my books and even new bedsheets. It was a little overwhelming at first, but I could tell that he was pleased with himself and that made me happy too?_

_And for being an adult, his sweet tooth is even worse than mine was when I was a kid, you know before I got that cavity when I was eight and refused to eat anything sweet after that?_

_He wasn’t what I was expecting the Headmaster of Beacon to be…. But maybe that’s a good thing? If he was some regular old Headmaster I don’t think I would like being around him but I do. He doesn’t treat me like a kid, he actually takes my thoughts and views and listens to what I have to say. I am really grateful for all he’s done for me. He even told me a bit about himself and…. I actually did the same. And I’ve never done that? I think that means I… trust him? That’s a good thing right?_

_Sorry, this letter was meant to tell you I was doing, instead half of it is me talking about my Headmaster. I promise my next letter will be better, okay?_

_I miss you, Auntie Em,_

_Love, Oscar_

* * *

Being the Headmaster of Beacon was a blessing as well as a curse. He prided himself and found great comfort in knowing he was helping shape the next generation of children, helping them find themselves when they sometimes felt like they couldn’t. 

But on the other hand, Oz knew with that pride came hang ups, came drawbacks. For one he was always tired. He was a workaholic by nature but this job required so much of his time that he’s even shocked Glynda was able to find him time to take breaks. One of the other cons to being so busy was that he was almost always stuck in his office day after day. 

Except for today. He’d worked extra long hours for the past few days to make sure that he could have this day off. Because today was a special occasion.

As he walked the streets of the marketplace, as he passed by all the shops and gazed at all the display windows, Oz smiled to himself.

Today was Oscar’s Birthday. 

For the past year now, the boy that he has been allowing to spend his days at his cabin, the boy he’s shared conversations with and drank hot cocoa and tea with, and who he was genuinely growing quite fond over, was now turning fifteen years old. 

And Oz, well, excitement could begin to describe how he was feeling. To say that he had grown so fond of Oscar in the year he’s been at Beacon. 

Because he had, it was so funny sometimes how fond he’d grown of Oscar over this year. And now he was turning fifteen. The passage of time, and the knowledge of seeing children grow and mature was truly a fascinating thing to witness. 

He wanted to— _No_ , he needed to get Oscar something special, something that Oscar would genuinely like. 

But what?

Oscar loved a lot of things, as per a child his age would, with a few exceptions that ranged from years on his own, with only his Aunt for company, resulting in making him a quite humble boy.

_A newest copy of Fairytales of Remnant?_

_Ship and order the most exotic Teas from across the world to Beacon?_

_Buy Oscar a rare plant that has a long life span?_

Ozpin thought about it. Thought about it until he felt a headache forming. What does one get a fifteen-year-old boy?

He glimpsed a group of young teens texting together outside on a bench. 

A Scroll would perhaps be too much. Certainly a kind gift, though he already knew it would be impossible to get Oscar to accept it—he barely got him to accept the time he and Glynda redecorated his room. It was a little overwhelming for him, Oz could tell. But then Oscar smiled and he felt a little better knowing he hadn’t caused the boy whiplash from such a kind gesture. But a Scroll? Ozpin felt like that might be overstepping.

He paused in front of an old books and records store. Getting Oscar a book might be a little too much like Ozpin being an old grandparent. He might as well get Oscar a sweater he’d never wear if that was the case. Besides, he tended to give Oscar a lot of books anyway. Then again, Oscar was always reading. He certainly appreciated a good book. Why, if he could carry them all with him, he probably—

Ozpin paused.

Oh. Oh!

He started making his way down to the electronics store past the antique and book stores. Unlike most of this side of town, which was all mostly old buildings with a lot of personality, this section was a lot newer. Ozpin rarely stepped over into this section due to a personal preference of sticking around the older buildings. Plus, he never really had a reason to come over here. As if he was really going to get a tattoo and go buy the latest Scroll.

However, he did have to pause at the ice cream and candy shops. _Oh, dear. Maybe I will have to come over to this side of town more often. Oh, wait! Focus, Ozpin!_

He stepped into the electronics store. After talking with one of the workers there for a long while, he finally got what he came for, paid, and left.

 _Alright, and now for a little self-indulgence,_ Ozpin thought, heading towards the candy store. _I can get Oscar something, too. He said he likes caramel, so perhaps—_

“Professor Ozpin?”

Ozpin turned to find a woman beside him. His brain ran through a thousand different names and faces, but couldn’t seem to find a match. Student? No. Teacher? No. Angry parent? She didn’t _look_ angry. A friend of a friend, of a friend, who he was supposed to know but didn’t?

Ozpin briefly contemplated that…

 _Alright, no._ He had no clue who this was.

He cleared his throat and said politely, “May I help you with something?”

“So _you_ are Professor Ozpin, then? Of Beacon Academy?” asked the woman, a strangely concerned look on her face.

“Yes.”

“God,” the woman sighed, “I didn’t think I’d bump into you so soon. I was in town and I knew I’d have to talk to you at some point, I just never imagined…” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not making a very good first impression of myself, am I? I’m Emma. Emma Pine?”

Ozpin looked at her in surprise, the last name indeed catching his attention. He reached for her outstretched hand and they exchanged a small shake. “ _Pine_? Pardon me, madam? But you wouldn’t happen to have a nephew named Oscar, would you?”

Emma smiled, eyes lighting up at the name, “So you are Professor Ozpin. Oscar had told me so much about you in his letter. The Headmaster who liked vintage cars and named own _‘Gracie’_?”

Ozpin felt his face burn a little with embarrassment. Oscar told her about his car? He swallowed and let out a sheepish chuckle, “My late mother’s name.” 

Emma snorted, “Yes you definitely _are_ the man my nephew described.”

Oz felt humbled by these words. To know that Oscar had told his Aunt all about him in a letter. Described him in detail. He felt touched, really, and he felt immediately obligated to return the favor. 

“Please, Miss Emma? You know so much of me, but I know so little of you. There is a wonderful cafe nearby. Would you like to join me?” He extended his arm, offering it to her in a polite manner. 

Emma looked to him and then to his arm, and smiled yet again, wrapping her arm around his. “I would be happy to.” 

They engaged in small talk after that. Oz learned that Emma married her husband Henry at a young age. Then a few years later after Henry’s parents died, he inherited their farm where they promptly moved without a second of hesitation. Years pass and sadly, so did her beloved Henry, due to a rupture in his heart, then she was left all alone to care for a house that was worth more than she was able to make in money.

Then, her little brother and sister in law announced that they were going to adopt a baby since they were unable to have children naturally. 

And then as soon as they had their baby in their arms, they were killed in a car crash, and suddenly she was left with a house she could barely pay for and a parentless baby who needed her.

Oz set down his cup of cocoa on the saucer, and gave the woman an empathetic look, “I am so very sorry that happened to you. I cannot begin to imagine the pain you’ve gone through.” 

Emma stirred her tea with the spoon that was offered to her, before taking another sip, “Thank you. I will admit it was and _has_ been hard over the years but I tried my hardest to be there for Oscar. He’s the most important thing to me.”

A fond expression came over Oz’s face at the mention of Oscar, he nodded, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “Yes, I can’t help but agree. Oscar is… a truly remarkable boy.”

A strange look came over Emma’s face then, “Oscar told me that on the first day of school, he got lost on his way to his classes?”

“Yes, from what I know, he appeared to have panicked when he was unable to find his classes and eventually found himself lost in the forest we have off campus.”

“And you found him?”

Oz brought a napkin to his lips to wipe away from chocolate residue from his lips, “Yes, I actually found him almost a mile or so away from my cabin, actually.”

“Speaking of, Oscar also told me that you have been letting him stay there? Offering him tea, food that he eventually has to help you with…”

Oz nearly did a spit take at that, “Oh _goodness,_ he told you about that too?”

Emma giggled, her finger curling over and hiding her mouth, “He told me _everything_ about you.”

“Should I bury myself in the ground from embarrassment?”

Emma gave him a sly look as she narrowed her eyes in a teasing manner, “Oh no, we wouldn’t want your suit to get all dirty, it is after all a designer from that thrift store a few blocks away.”

Oz pinched the bridge of his nose, face feeling hot, “ _Goodness,_ that boy.”

“Oscar also informed me that you have a contest together?”

As quickly as he was in his embarrassment, it was gone within seconds at the mention of the challenge he and Oscar had been engaged in for the past year. “A quest to find the best fairytale! It is proving to be quite difficult, seeing as he and I have different views when it comes to fairy tales that resonate with us. But I’m confident that we will agree on something one day.”

Emma reached forward and grabbed a croissant from the plate placed in front of them. “I have no doubt you will.” 

A silence grew between them, for the next few minutes they did nothing but sip at their drinks while they listened to the chatter and sounds of the cafe going on around them.

“Professor Ozpin? Has he… mentioned anything about...” She trailed off.

Ozpin put down his near-empty mug. “Mentioned what?”

“Well… about the incident. About his parents—?”

“He’s brought it up a few times. Why?”

“So he’s told you? On his own? He just… talked about it? With you?”

Ozpin nodded. “Yes?”

She sighed deeply. "That's more than he's told me in the past decade he's lived with me. He’s not exactly… _open_ with me. Never has been. He usually shut down whenever I brought it up. The incident, the adoption..." Her hands wrung a napkin, as if trying to strangle it. “You can—it’s just… You’re capable of offering him so much.”

Ozpin blinked. “What are you implying?”

Emma bit her lip. Her hands twisted the napkin even harder. “I can’t give him what he needs. That’s why I had to send him away in the first place. But you, you’ve… Already pretty much given him a home.”

Another long silence came between them.

Finally, Ozpin had to break it, if only because what she was insinuating was starting to eat at him. “What do you mean by that?”

Emma took in a deep, shaky breath. “I can’t take him back. When he finishes school. As it is, I very well may have to sell the farm if things keep going the way that they are. If that happens—if I…” She shook her head, tears in her eyes, “I can’t take him back. I can’t take care of him. But with you… he’s _open_ with you. And he already adores you, I can tell—I can _see_ it!” She stared him in the face, eyes desperate, voice quaking with emotion. “And I can tell that you care about him, too.”

Ozpin swallowed. “Well. Yes, but…”

Emma put something on the table between them. It looked like paperwork of some kind.

“You don’t have to,” she said quietly. “But I want you to _think_ about it. I wasn’t even going to bring it up today. I was going to wait a while longer to see what you were like. But you’ve… convinced me. That this is the right decision.”

Ozpin stared in shock at the papers before him. He needed only to thumb through them for a few seconds to understand what they were. He retracted his hand like the paper burned him. “This is—! No, I couldn’t possibly—!”

Emma reached out quickly, grasping his hand. “I know.” She sniffed, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “This is hard for me, but… please. Just… consider it? Again, I’m not going to force you, I just want… I just want Oscar to have what I could never give him.”

Ozpin places his hand on top of hers. “From the way he talks about you, you’ve given him plenty! You don’t have to do this—”

“But I do! It’s not a matter of just love, Ozpin. It’s a matter of _understanding_. You _understand_ each other, I know it, I can _tell._ He’s so _happy_ when he’s with you. He was never like that at the farm. Never this open or excited about anything.”

Ozpin tore his eyes away from Emma’s tears and looked back down at the documents. “I… I don’t think I…”

He didn’t think he could. He was already a father once. To be one again… Was he allowed to do that? _Could_ he allow himself to do that? To _Oscar_? Not since Salem, not since his girls had he—

 _Family_?

The idea rubbed at a wound that he didn’t know was still raw. Not after all of this time. He couldn’t have a family. She had killed all hope of that. Was he—could he—should he—?

Ozpin pulled his hands out of Emma’s grasp, a thousand thoughts and fears and dreams and hopes and nightmares flashing through him. “I… I…” 

Her words held true, he did, he knew he did. 

_Of course_ he cared for Oscar. More so than he ever thought was possible.

Emma sent him a sad look. She slipped the papers over to him, then pressed her hand over his once more. “Can you tell him I couldn't come to his birthday? Can you do that for me? I'm sorry. I just—"

"H-hold on." Ozpin caught her wrist before she was about to leave. "He'd be devastated if you weren't there. He loves you so _immensely_ , Emma. You should be there. At least do that for him. Don’t leave him so suddenly. He’ll never understand why you left him—he’ll only blame himself."

"But I don't have with him what you have, Ozpin."

"But you're still his _family—“_

"He's found a better one," she said, with an honesty that frightened Ozpin a little. That guilt—that uncertainty in her eyes. It was all things he’d felt himself—things he was still _currently_ feeling. After he lost his girls, with Oscar—

"He's better off in your care, Professor Ozpin. You can still think about it, but for now, can you promise you'll at least take care of him for me?"

Ozpin shook his head. "O-of course, but..."

"I'm sorry."

And before he knew it, she left, leaving him there with the adoption papers looming before him.

* * *

Ozpin vaguely recalled the drive back home and the walk to his cabin. He vaguely recalled cleaning up and getting ready for a birthday party. If one were to ask him the details, however, he didn’t think he could string together any words.

He vaguely recalled Ruby arriving with a birthday cake. He vaguely recalled greeting Oscar at the door and saying happy birthday. But thinking back on it, he wasn’t entirely sure what Oscar’s response had been or who he had in tow with him at the door. Pyrrha? Jaune?

If one were to ask him what order in which Oscar received presents or what the presents even were or what flavor the cake was, Ozpin wasn’t sure he could answer any of that, either.

Which was a shame, because he vaguely recalled being excited that morning when he heard what flavor it was going to be.

The clearest memory in his mind was when Glynda elbowed him and said, “Don’t you have a present for him, Oz?”

Ozpin nodded, put on his best smile, and handed the bag to Oscar.

Oscar opened it and stared at the little tablet-like item in surprise.

“What is it? Some kind of Scroll?” he asked.

Ozpin shook his head. “It’s only for reading books. There’s about fifty of them already downloaded on there. I figured you might find it easier to carry around something small instead of lugging an entire library with you.”

“Oh, wow!” Oscar looked at him with excitement. “This is so cool! Thank you, Oz.”

Ozpin could tell he genuinely meant that. His smile was more genuine this time, although he couldn’t help but pinch his brows together when Oscar looked away. His mind wandered to the drawer where he’d placed the adoption papers.

If Oscar was his son, they would always have birthdays like this. They would always celebrate together. Birthdays. Holidays. Maybe they’d throw parties just for fun and Oscar could invite all of his friends. Because Ozpin didn’t mind the company. This was probably the loudest his cabin had ever been. The liveliness, the cheering, the giddy singing and clapping before Oscar blew out his candles.

And the boy laughed, so, so happily, because he’d never ever had a birthday like this, either. Never celebrated it with this many people before, or had a cake this big, or this many presents before.

And Ozpin felt happy for him. He wanted to make him that happy all the time. So his mind kept wandering to the adoption papers. The wonder if this was okay. Could he allow himself these kinds of parties, this joy, this energy?

Friends. Family.

A hand brushed his. “Are you okay?”

He looked up and met Glynda’s gaze. Worry was etched across her face. And he realized then that his eyes were a little more watery than they ought to be, and she clearly saw that. She could probably feel his hand shaking against hers.

“I’m fine,” he said, blinking his eyes to clear his vision. He turned back to watch Oscar and Ruby trying to figure out the reading tablet Ozpin had got him. “I just… it’s been a long time since I’ve been to a birthday party like this.”

Glynda nodded in understanding. She turned her head, looking at the picture above the fireplace mantle. “You can’t help but see them, can you?”

She really had no idea. Ozpin sighed wearily. “Primrose will be turning seventeen soon.”

Glynda squeezed his hand.

Sometime around four that afternoon, guests started to leave, one by one. Ozpin wouldn’t be able to say in what order. All he knew was that Glynda was the last to go after helping to clean up, leaving Oscar and Ozpin alone in the house.

Ozpin almost couldn’t bring himself to look at him. He tried to busy himself with putting the extra cake away.

“Are you okay, Oz?”

The voice nearly startled him. “What?”

“I asked if you were okay. You were kinda spacy during the whole party.”

“No,” Ozpin said in a lame voice. He quickly tried to cover up his blunder, “That is, I’m fine.”

Oscar crossed his arms and leaned against the fridge. “Are you _sure_ about that?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Okay…” Oscar didn’t sound convinced. “Because you just put the ice cream cake away in the cupboard.”

“Oh…” Ozpin opened up the cupboard and pulled out the cake. “Right, yes… um...” He glanced around, somewhat at a loss.

“The freezer, Oz. It goes in the freezer.”

“Right.” Ozpin opened the freezer and stuffed the cake in wherever it would fit. It started to fall out just before he closed the door. “I’ll worry about that later.”

“Seriously, Oz,” Oscar sounded more worried than before, “Are you okay?”

“I’ve just… never had so many people here before, that’s all.”

“Mm-hm…” Oscar still didn’t seem convinced. He followed him back into the living room. “You just… seem a little pale? Well, more pale than usual. You’re not sick, are you?”

“Truth be told, Oscar…” Ozpin sat down heavily on the couch. “I’m not exactly feeling all that well.”

Oscar blinked, his eyes going wide with a fear that actually scared Oz himself. 

Then the boy surprised him as he often does, when, the moment the word left his lips, Oscar’s hand reached forward and pressed against his forehead. The action left him stunned to silence and they remained there, while Oscar let out a hum in thought, “You don’t feel like you have a fever. Are you nauseous? Dizzy?”

For a moment, that was enough to break Ozpin out of his stupor, he let out a loud scoff. “I believe we have this backwards.”

“And I believe you are not answering the question.” Oscar countered, his eyes narrowed and completely serious. 

“No, _Dr. Pine_ ,” Ozpin teased, “physically, I am doing perfectly well. Thank you.”

“So then what’s wrong on an emotional level then? Or, maybe spiritual level since you are, _apparently_ , a psychic. Bad vibrations in the universe or something?”

Ozpin laughed. “I’m afraid so. The planets are no longer aligned and a solar flare from our sun has sent me spiraling into a deep, spiritual depression. Any moment now, the infrared waves of the multiverses are going to collide and I may very well go into full panic mode—”

“Alright! _Sheesh_ , I get it! Emotional inner turmoil stuff, then?”

“Something like that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Ozpin looked over the boy for a moment. His brow furrowed, once more remembering the choice he was supposed to make. “Not this time, I’m afraid.”

He could see the slight hurt on Oscar’s face. They’d told each other so much already. He must find the difficulty believing that there was something Ozpin wouldn’t share with him by this point. “I won’t pressure you then.”

Ozpin sighed, his eyes looking for something else to rest on other than Oscar’s worried expression. They caught on that picture above the mantle for the second time that day.

Oscar noticed and slowly got up, moving over to look at it. “Are these your daughters?”

Ozpin nodded. He got up and picked the picture up, bringing it down for Oscar to see. “Iclyn. Orla. Idalia and Primrose,” He said, pointing out each of his daughters, pride in his voice. “Primrose isn’t that much older than you are. About a year and a few months. Her 17th birthday is coming up soon as well, actually.”

Oscar looked up at him sadly. “But you won’t be able to celebrate her birthday, will you?”

“Sadly,” he shook his head, placing the picture back up on the mantel, “No.”

“Is that why you don’t feel well?”

Ozpin sighed. “Forgive me, I just… need to think.”

Oscar nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you later, Oz.”

“Until tomorrow, Oscar.”

Oscar left and Ozpin stared at the picture of his girls for a moment longer. 

He went back to the kitchen and opened the drawer where the documents were placed. He grabbed a pen. And it hovered. And hovered. And hovered over that first line for several minutes.

He pressed the tip down onto the paper, but then quickly backed away, putting the papers back where they had been and slumping against the counter.

_What am I going to do…?_

* * *

Oz was acting strange. 

No, scratch that. 

Ozpin was acting _really strange_. For the past couple days, he just kept spacing out whenever he came by for their annual tea session. Accidentally put coffee grounds into his hot cocoa, putting food powder for the plants he bought Oscar months ago into his tea, dropping plates and mugs on the ground whenever Oscar brought him out of whatever he was thinking about. 

The list went on and on.

It was getting so bad, that Oscar was starting to get really worried. He’s never seen this side of Professor Ozpin before. He was always so well put together, and so level headed, but now? Oz seemed so lost, and Oscar felt helpless himself, because how was he a fifteen year old supposed to help a full grown adult with something that didn’t concern him?

It was why it surprised him, truly. When during a Wednesday afternoon as Oscar began heading towards Forever Falls, he heard a loud car horn towards his left. Turning, he felt so flabbergasted when he saw Oz, standing by Gracie and waving him over. 

Confused, and yet intrigued, he made his way over. “Uhhh, hi?”

Oz smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, in fact it almost looked sorta nervous? “Hello there.”

Oscar looked at Gracie and then back at Oz, “Sooooo? What’s going on here? You going to a meeting or something?”

Oz pressed his lips together, “Actually, _we_ are heading out.”

“Out?” Where could they possibly be going? Out where?” 

But Oz being cryptic as he always was, simply winked at him and gestured him to get in. “You’ll see.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. Well at least the man’s sass was still intact. He moved around to the other side of Gracie, opened the door, slid inside and buckled up. “You better not be taking me somewhere bad.”

Oz chuckled, “I would never, Oscar. Trust me. Have I ever led you to question my methods?”

Oscar tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, “Actually yes, that time you tried to cook and nearly burned down your cabin.” 

And Ozpin, for the first time in days, actually let out a snort of laughter that this time did reach his eyes. “Come now that was my first time making food in a long time. I’ve gotten better since than.” 

“Debatable.”

Ozpin shook his head and Oscar couldn’t help but grin, knowing that their bickering was helping Oz feel a little better made him feel better too. “Are you ready or not?” 

Oscar gave the man a thumbs up. “Ready as I’ll ever be.” 

Apparently, their destination was a local cafe just off the marketplace. Oscar was a little hesitant to go inside because this place looked fancy, far too fancy for some farmhand like himself. Should he brush his hair? Have Oz go back to Beacon so he could change into better clothes? Did he even have the right to be here?

But with just a wave from Ozpin and a gentle smile, Oscar let all of those worries go.

They sat down at a table by the window. Ozpin ordered a hot cocoa for himself and a mint chai tea for Oscar, along with a few biscuits and mini cupcakes.

“You broke our daily routine just so we can have the same routine someplace else?”

Oz stirred his hot cocoa, “Ah, but it isn’t our daily routine.”

Had Oz finally snapped? Did Oscar need to call Glynda to come get her soon to be boyfriend and take him to the hospital? “We are literally having tea, hot cocoa and pastries while sitting across from each other.”

Ozpin reached over and handed him a biscuit. “Ah, but fancier, Oscar. Our drinks are more exotic, tastes better coming from an actual cafe.”

Yup, he’s lost it. 

“Do I need to call Glynda?”

Oz’s face morphed from teasing, to genuine concern, and then back to teasing again, “The last thing you want is _Glynda_ here, she takes things far too seriously when it concerns me and if _you_ call her and say something is wrong, she will likely fly all the way here and call an ambulance.” 

“Then why all this?”

What was so special about today?

Ozpin took a bite of cupcake, and let out a sigh. Suddenly his eyes narrowed and he looked a little sad, “I just thought we would try something different.”

Guilt slammed against Oscar. Had he gone too far with his teasing? Did he actually hurt Oz’s feelings? “Oz? You’ve been acting weird lately. What’s going on?”

“Nothing, really. I just want to talk to you about something…“ Oz gazed at the reflection in his mug for a moment before looking back at Oscar. “But that can wait until we are done with our drinks and talk about the newest fairytale you’ve read recently.”

And that’s exactly what they did, they sat there until their drinks were gone. While Oscar talked about the tale of _The Valiant Tailor_ as they finished off the last of their pastries. “So what do you think?”

Oz hummed out in thought, seemingly starting to act more like himself then he was previously. “A grand tale about a simple tailor achieving a small feat but managing to gain the title of a hero. But I wouldn’t call it the best, though it is a good one…”

Oscar let out a sigh, rolling his eyes, “You _always_ say that.”

A small huff of laughter escaped Oz, “And you as well.”

Oscar reached into his bag and pulled out two more books, “Well I have more stories I’ve read besides that one. Do we have time to go over those?”

Oz gave him such a fond expression that it actually caught him off guard. “We have as much time as you want, Oscar.”

“Okay! I’ll be right back. Don’t look over the books without me!” He shot up like a top and ran straight to the nearest bathroom.

When he was done, Oscar washed his hands thoroughly, as well as the green bangle on his wrist. Even though he knew the bathroom here was well cleaned, he wasn’t going to take any chances getting sick. That happened to his Aunt once and she was bedridden for two weeks, leaving Oscar alone to do the chores at eleven years old. And Oz was a mess already, the last thing either of them needed was for both of them to be out of it and sick.

Throwing away the paper towel, Oscar made his way back outside, maneuvered around the waitresses and various other customers coming and going. When he finally spotted Oz’s white hair, Oscar stopped. He noticed there was someone else there now. Someone who was now sitting in his chair. 

Squinting his eyes and tilting his head to the side, trying to get a better look, Oscar realized it was a woman. A woman with long blonde hair, a white dress that came all the way down to her ankles, with a purse in her lap.

Moving closer, he also realized that while the woman looked relaxed and comfortable, Ozpin didn’t. His body language stiff and rigged, his hands were clenched into tight fists, and something that surprised even Oscar, was that he was glaring at the woman.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Oscar moved the rest of the way towards them and upon doing so he realized that he was going to interrupt a conversation they were having. “Oz?” They both turned their heads, neither of them expecting him to be standing there. A strange look came across Ozpin’s face upon seeing him, he looked scared. 

“Oscar!” 

Finally, the woman who hadn't taken her eyes off of Ozpin for even a second turned her head, “Ah, so I was right. You _did_ come here with someone, Ozpin. Lying still comes so naturally to you, my dear.”

Oz’s left eye twitched and he adjusted the scarf on his neck, a physical tic he had whenever he got uncomfortable. 

The woman extended her hand and smiled sweetly at him, almost too sweetly, as though she was faking it. It kinda made Oscar nervous, but not wanting to be impolite he extended his hand anyway, much to Ozpin’s discomfort, “I’m Oscar.”

“It is so very lovely to meet you, Oscar.” The woman placed her other hand on the side of his, cupping it tightly. Out of the corner of his eye, Oz looked like he wanted to do nothing more than to rip Oscar away from the woman, and that did little to curb the uneasy feeling in Oscar’s stomach. 

“My name is Salem.” 

* * *

Ozpin rarely felt this kind of anger before. But on another level, he also rarely felt this kind of fear.

When he’d first seen Salem come in, he thought his brain was messing with him. First the shock given to him by Emma Pine and now his ex-wife just so happens to stroll back into his life.

For a moment, he legitimately felt like taking Oscar up on his offer and calling Glynda himself. " _Ring, ring!_ _Hello, Glynda? I’ve gone mad. Ship me away, please._ ”

But then what he was sure was just some apparition conjured up by his brain came closer to him, until they were a mere few feet apart. She looked at him with a disgust that was familiar and made his stomach burn. They met each other’s gazes from across the coffee shop and Ozpin swore in that moment they could have turned into rabid wolves and ripped each other to shreds.

Unfortunately, they were both polite folk who didn’t want to cause a scene. Although a piece of him really, really wanted to set free a piercing shriek and pounce at her like a lion, such a burning fury went through him.

He could tell by the way her eyes narrowed that she felt the same way. They didn’t say a word, and yet the entire cafe seemed to ring with that word.

**_You_ **

Salem slid into Oscar’s seat and Ozpin resisted the urge to kick it out from underneath her before she could sit like a petulant schoolchild. Watching her fall onto the tile would have really made his day. But, unfortunately, they were polite people.

So, like polite people, they both kept quiet and smiled.

“Ozpin,” she said, always the one to get the first and last word in. And always in that sickeningly sweet tone, too.

“Salem,” he replied back, his voice noticeably smaller than he wanted it to be. He clenched his hands to stop them from shaking. His brain was swirling all around him. _Attack, be still, flee, scream_ —

They continued to stare.

Salem glanced at Oscar’s tea and the books on the table. “Are you with company presently?”

“No,” He lied straight through his teeth. Because the last thing that was needed was for Salem to know about Oscar, she’d likely take him away too. “Just myself.” Some part of him hoped beyond hope that Oscar would never come out of the bathroom, until he was long gone, that he’d actually get lost somewhere so that he wouldn’t have to see _this_. 

Whatever _this_ even was. 

He cleared his throat, meaning with full intent to get under her skin when he asked, “How are the girls?” Although, a part of him genuinely wanted to know, even though he knew Salem would never spare him the details.

“Better off,” Salem said, her sweet tone dropping for a second.

The break in her act brought Ozpin the smallest ounce of joy, even if it was brief. She looked at him and he felt like if they were standing, he would have tried to back away even further. Confined to his seat, he had nowhere to go, nowhere to run, so he could only sit here and stare at her while she stared back at him.

And then of course, it was during that ungodly moment that Oscar came out of the bathroom. Ozpin was vaguely aware of him approaching, but he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes off of Salem, as though afraid she would try something if he looked away for even a second. And when he had a chance to process that Oscar was indeed there, his stomach dropped. He watched, barely moving or breathing, as they exchanged a handshake. The urge to grab a hold of Oscar, yank him away and hold him protectively, nearly consumed him. 

Because she was cruel. She was absolutely vile. 

_She was poison itself._

She’d find some terrible way to ruin this, too. Ozpin swallowed hard, glancing down at his bag, which had the signed adoption papers in it. He was going to tell Oscar today. He was going to ask him. By that point, it would have been up to him—they could have been family—or, or something like that—but…

But of course Salem would ruin this, too. Right when Ozpin had come to a decision, right when he was ready to give his heart and soul away, she had to come in and stab him in the chest one more time.

It made him sick. He clenched his hands right into his pant legs, trying not to start screaming at her or crying or laughing—after all, what kind of sick, twisted joke _was_ this?

And Salem still refused to let go of Oscar’s hand. She tilted her head to the side, her eyes narrowing as she looked into Oscar’s two hazel ones, cupping his chin with her fingers, “How old are you?”

Oscar looked uncomfortable. He glanced at Ozpin for a split second. And looked like he was ready to snarl like a feral cat, “Um… I just turned fifteen.”

_Get your hands off him..._

Salem hummed and now, finally, at last pulled her hands away. She sent Ozpin a look, the kind of look she got when she was about to do something and Ozpin tensed. He tensed in the same way he used to back then—right before she yelled and hit him. Just like that time—just like when—

She stood up, and he closed his eyes, shoulders hitching. She rested her hand on one of them and he squeezed his eyes tighter. She leaned down, until her mouth was right by his ear.

“What’s wrong, _my_ Ozpin? Something caught in your throat?”

Ozpin stood abruptly, slamming a hand on the table, breathing hard. Although, it was like he couldn’t get a breath in. His heart was pounding like he’d ran miles and miles.

“ _Leave_ ,” He hissed, he felt like he was going to suffocate with her being so close to him. His mind immediately flashing back to the very moment she was inches from him and biting his lip was the only thing he could do from passing out.

She smiled at him, then regarded Oscar, “Have a pleasant afternoon.”

And just as quickly as she came, she was gone.

Ozpin sat back down slowly, still breathing like he’d completed a marathon.

“Oz?” Oscar placed a hand on his back.

Ozpin shook his head, pulling off his glasses to rub his face. “I’m sorry, I need… I just… I can’t breathe, I can’t...” He pulled at his scarf next, like he was being strangled. “I need… I can’t…”

“Hey. Remember what you tell me, okay? _Deep breaths_.” 

Ozpin struggled to take a full breath of air, carefully slowing his breathing.

Oscar lifted his head, glaring out the window where Salem had disappeared. “That was _her,_ wasn’t it?”

Ozpin raised his head. “Yes. That was my ex wife. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset—”

“You have a reason to be upset. I don’t know what she said to you but it couldn’t have been good.” Oscar shuddered as Oz’s discomfort over Salem became his own. “But it’s okay. She’s gone now, just breathe.” Oscar sent Ozpin a small smile, something that Oz appreciated and obligated to do that same, but it was weak and didn’t quite meet his eyes. 

Then as they stood there, he watched as Oscar’s gaze slowly wandered a little lower, to where Ozpin’s scarf was hanging loose.

Ozpin quickly clapped a hand over where he was looking, then just as quickly cleared his throat and redid the scarf. The scarf usually kept it hidden—the pale scar that ran across his throat. The scar Oscar had undoubtedly _seen,_ even if only for a few seconds. “Perhaps we ought to finish this back home?”

Oscar looked at him worriedly for a beat, then nodded. “ _Yeah_. Home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PhantomDragon321--OOOOH MAN!! We have finally reached the point where Things *Really* Start To Kick Off!! Buckle your seatbelts everyone. From here on, the Angst starts to sink in.
> 
> TheAngelofFate— I have nothing else to add but Ya’ll aren’t READY for what we have in store! 
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated in the comments down below! We'll see you guys in the next one! Toodles!


	9. The Reveal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a truth is revealed

It was three days after the incident at the cafe. Oscar still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it. He’d never seen Ozpin look that hurt or furious before. Sure, he’d seen him broken hearted, unsure, maybe even slightly angry, but never like that. Never on that kind of level before. 

Oscar was sure that if he hadn’t been there, Ozpin would have fallen into a full-blown panic attack. As Oscar knew what those felt like, he was glad to be able to put a stop to one before it started. It was nice to be there for Ozpin for once rather than the other way around.

Ozpin didn’t stop acting strange after the incident, though. However, rather than being weird and clumsy, like he was fumbling through a fog, now he was mostly quiet and hesitant and contemplative.

There was a strange clarity in his thoughts that wasn’t there before. Like he knew what he _should_ be doing but was for some reason hesitating on it.

“We can stop here for today if you want,” Oscar offered, closing the reading tablet Ozpin had got him for his birthday.

Ozpin distractedly stirred his mug, which had long since gone cold, though Oscar wasn’t entirely sure if he was aware of it. The cabin had felt weird and dark and cold recently, and not just because Ozpin had stopped lighting the fireplace that was so familiar and comforting.

It was as if meeting with Salem had flipped a switch in his head. And now he had become someone else. Someone sad and distant and alone.

Oscar stood up, tucking his tablet away into his bag. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Ozpin regarded him with a silent nod and Oscar took his leave.

He couldn’t help but think there was more to this than Salem. It was like Ozpin was mourning something. Maybe he was sad about his daughters again? Maybe it was his youngest’s birthday already, like he’d mentioned before?

Oscar mulled on this, distractedly dodging Knife as the old crow came swooping at his head. Oscar held up a bag of birdseed, which the crow then swooped back down to exchange for a quarter. “Don’t eat it all at once,” Oscar warned as the crow flew away with the bag of seeds.

He sighed and stuffed his hands into his pockets, kicking a pinecone out of the way as he walked. Maybe he ought to send Auntie Em another letter. She still hadn’t responded to the last one. Or maybe he could try giving her a call again. He patted his pocket, then his other one.

“Ah, shoot!” he hissed, realizing he’d left his Scroll back at the cabin, and that he was almost back to his dorm. _Well, time to walk all the way back_ . He groaned. Not that he really _minded_ the walk through the woods. It was mostly just due to the inconvenience.

He could probably just rush back and grab it real quick.

Oscar started down the pathway, following the trail of green birdhouses and bird feeders. He waved at Knife, who was digging into his bag of goodies. The crow cawed at him and Oscar laughed. “Yeah, yeah, I forgot my Scroll. No need to lecture me.”

Oscar wondered if maybe he could just go through the back door. He was pretty sure he left his Scroll on the counter, and he didn’t really want to bother Ozpin about the whole thing. Not when he was still in his weird mood.

Oscar went around the house, opening the back door and slipping into the kitchen. Ozpin was notably absent. He might have gone upstairs. Oscar saw his Scroll and went for the grab, stuffing it into his pocket.

Pleased with himself, he went back to the door, but had to freeze when he heard a voice.

“It _is_ the truth, Ozpin.”

The voice was harsh, not like Oscar had heard it yesterday, all grossly saccharine. This was cold and cruel, like a knife.

_Salem?! What’s she doing here?!_

Oscar slipped closer, pressing himself against the kitchen wall, right by the open archway that led to the dining room and living room.

He heard pacing, which Oscar could only imagine belonged to Ozpin.

“I’m just… I’m not certain I can believe it.”

“The records are right there in front of you.”

“I know,” Ozpin retorted, “but this is _you_ , Salem. I wouldn’t put you above forgery just to mess with me. You _got_ what you wanted. Only the Gods know why you don’t let these things _go—_!”

“As if I would waste time, money, and effort on something like this! You’re not the center of the whole damn universe, you know—”

“But you took the time to hide _this_ from me!” Ozpin’s voice trembled. “ _Why didn’t you tell me_?!”

“Because I didn’t want you to have him,” Salem snapped. “You didn’t deserve him—”

“But he deserved _someone_!”

“He _got_ someone! It’s not _my_ fault they went and got themselves killed in a car crash—the fools.” Salem scoffed.

Oscar furrowed his brows, his ears pricking. He pressed himself further against the wall.

“You didn’t have the right,” Ozpin hissed. “He was also _my_ child, Salem! And you gave him away—!”

“I had every right! I _divorced_ you, if you don’t remember. The boy was only mine to do with as I pleased. And besides, I didn’t have time for another child—!”

“But this isn’t about _you—_!”

“And what? This is about _you_ ? And _your_ pathetic feelings?”

“This is about _him_!” There was a loud _thump_ , like the sound of a fist hitting the wall, and then Ozpin’s voice grew another octave. “It’s about _my son_ —who you gave away without even first _consulting_ me about it!”

“Like you _missed_ him. You didn’t even know he _existed_ until just now. I doubt you even care about the children you _do_ know about—”

“You don’t know a damn thing about how I feel,” Ozpin snapped, his voice growing louder and louder the seconds that ticked by, “You did everything in your power to take them away from me—”

“And they’re better for it!” There was the scrape of chair legs as Salem stood up. “They didn’t need you. I didn’t. So get over it.”

“Maybe you didn’t need me—maybe the girls didn’t, either. But you gave that boy up; you didn’t care what happened to him! So _he_ needed me, and once more, you made sure I didn’t have a chance in hell to say anything or do anything about it!” Ozpin moved further across the living room, giving Oscar a chance to glimpse him. “How did you even know? How did you find out?”

“I only had to look at him. The boy looks almost exactly like Ozma—”

Ozpin reared around quickly. “Keep my father’s name out of your mouth, Salem!”

Salem moved closer, until they were standing only a few inches apart. “You wanted to know how I knew. _That’s_ how I knew. All I needed after that was a name and an age. It was pretty easy to figure out from there. The Beacon security systems are still laughable, by the way.” 

Ozpin shook his head, tears falling from behind his glasses. “But _why_? Why did you have to _tell_ me? Why come all of this way? You could have kept me in the dark like you have for the past fourteen years!”

“Easy, really,” Salem nearly whispered. “You were just a bit too close for my liking, and I didn’t want you to have him. You don’t deserve him.” She enunciated, slowly, through her teeth,

Ozpin scoffed, laugh sounding hollow and rigid, “And you do? After everything you’d done? You don’t deserve him either.”

There was a beat of silence on both ends for quite some time, then Salem spoke, her voice threatening, and deadly, “Stay away from Oscar Pine. You stay away from our son, Ozpin, or we will have a _problem_.” 

Oscar reeled back like he had been punched in the chest. He backed up so quickly, his elbow knocked a pot from off the stove. It fell with a clamor on the kitchen tile. In an instant, Ozpin was racing into the kitchen. They made eye contact for a split-second before Oscar ran out of the house, the wind stinging his already watering eyes. 

* * *

“OSCAR!” Ozpin shouted in horror, running towards the door. “OSCAR, PLEASE, WAIT!” He nearly followed after him before he remembered Salem. He turned to her, a fury in his chest that burned like a forest fire. “ _Get out_.” He spat venomously, hands clenched into fists. 

Salem stared at him for a long moment, until a slow smile took over her face. “I have the very sneaking suspicion that we’ll be meeting again, Ozpin.”

“You better be as far away from my school by the time I have my guards do a perimeter check, Salem.” Ozpin glared at her as she walked out the cabin door at an agonizingly slow pace. When she reached it and let herself out, he finally took after Oscar.

“Oscar!” He cried into the woods. “ _Oscar_ !” He went into a panic, his mind was of nothing else but _Find Oscar_ over and over again in his head, trying to find him before—well, Ozpin wasn’t entirely sure. 

Before what? Before Oscar started to hate him? What if he already did? What had he _heard_ ? What did he _know_? “OSCAR! PLEASE! I’M… I’M SO SORRY!”

He didn’t know which direction the boy ran. Back to the dorms? Maybe he ought to check for him on campus?  
  
He ran without thinking, until he nearly got attacked by a ball of feathers.

“Knife, please, not _now_!” He snapped trying to get the bird off of him, But the crow was already off again, taking his glasses with him. “KNIFE!” Ozpin pinched his brows together and grit his teeth in frustration. He didn’t have _time_ for this—he had to find—!

Ozpin’s heart nearly skipped a beat. 

_Oscar!_

He looked to where Knife had landed, on a branch resting above someone curled up in the tree. Oscar had wedged himself into a space rather high up, nestled between two thick limbs.

“Oscar! What are you doing!?” Ozpin called up to him, he felt his heart beating in his ears. “Please, come down from there. We can talk about this—!”

“I don’t want to!” Oscar shouted down at him. “Leave me alone!”

Oz’s heart hurt at those words, his hands were shaking, he felt like he was about to have a heart attack. “ _Oscar_!”

“Did you know?!”

Ozpin shook his head frantically moving towards the foot of the tree. “Oscar, I can assure you. I didn’t… I didn’t know about—I don’t…” He sighed and slumped against the trunk, slipping down into a sitting position among the roots. “I’m so sorry, Oscar. This is all my fault.”

They sat in silence for a while, until Oscar finally said, “Did you even like me for _me_? Or was it just because you knew? Was this all just some stupid trick—?”

“Of course not!” Ozpin shouted, desperate to have Oscar know that. “I do care about you—!”

“Just because we’re related, right?” Oscar snapped, still not looking at him. “Right after I told you what happened on the ferris wheel, and you _still_ didn’t tell me?! Were you ever going to say _anything_?!”

“I truly didn’t know until today, Oscar. _Please_ ,” Ozpin begged, fear gripping at his soul, his heart constricting, “Come down from there. You could hurt yourself!”

Oscar sniffed and shook his head.

His heart nearly shattered when he realized that Oscar was crying, that had been crying, “I know you’re angry with me. I know you’d probably rather have any other man in the world be your father. But _please_. I don't want you to fall and get hurt.”

He didn’t get a response. 

So Ozpin did the only thing he felt like he could do.

He kicked off his shoes, pulled off his socks, and started climbing. The branches bent and bowed under his weight. Ozpin pleaded with whatever Gods would dare listen to please, please not have one snap underneath him.

Oscar must have felt the tree shaking because he looked down and then suddenly clung desperately to his branch “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“You won’t come down.” Ozpin huffed, lugging himself up to the next branch. “So I’m climbing up,”

“But… you’re ruining the thrift store suit you like so much,” Oscar said. There was a hint of humor as well as something profound in his voice.

“I don’t care about the suit,” Ozpin replied, meeting Oscar’s gaze from between the tree branches. “I care about your safety. That’s all that matters to me as of now, nothing else!” He carefully picked the next few limbs that looked the sturdiest, until he was finally at the branch just beneath Oscar. He hauled himself up and sat down on it, keeping one arm secured around the trunk.

Oscar sent him a tiny but nervous and distant smile. “You know, you’d probably die from this height.”

“And _you_ wouldn’t?”

“ _I_ could grab onto another tree branch. You’d probably break them all falling down.”

Ozpin laughed wetly, letting out a low breath, “Probably.”

“But you came up here anyway.”

Ozpin smiled. “I came up here anyway.” His face fell and he looked away, through the branches and over the woods. The afternoon sun peeked in through the trees. It was fall, so the air was a little chilly, too chilly to be barefooted up high in a tree. “You’d probably rather have anyone else but me,” he repeated sadly.

“It’s not that,” Oscar said softly. “I just… I don’t really know how to feel…”

“That’s understandable. I don’t know how to feel, either… Everything was fine, we were fine. And I felt like I could… I felt... ” He sighed. He lifted a knee up to rest his chin on top of it, wincing at the feeling of the branch swaying beneath him. “But then of course, Salem had to come in and ruin things. She _always_ ruins everything.”

A silence grew between them as they stared off into the distance. 

“Hey, Oz?”

“Hm?”

“Why can we seem to talk about ourselves only when we’re somewhere up high?” Oscar mumbled.

Oz let a small smile grace his lips, “I don’t know. You seem to keep dragging me up to high places.”

“The ferris wheel was _your_ idea.”

“Then I suppose you definitely managed to get back at me with this,” Ozpin joked lamely, but the smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. “You don’t have to come back tomorrow.” He muttered, heart feeling heavy and pained, “To my cabin, or to attend any of my classes. If...If that’s what you want. I can even recommend you to one of the other academies. I’m sure they’d be happy to have you. Or, if you’re worried about having to make new friends, then I’ll just stay away—”

“I don’t want you to do that,” Oscar said softly. “I think.... I’m just going to need time to process this…”

“Of course.” His voice understanding, and calm

And yet...

_Please don’t. Don’t leave._

God’s since when did he become such a child?

_Please, don’t leave me._

Ozpin knew where Oscar was coming from, he understood that the boy probably needed time to process everything they had both just learned. But the very thought, the very idea that Oscar would avoid him, would keep his distance after knowing, learning that he was his son... It made an ache develop in his chest and bile to raise in his throat. 

“Can I be honest with you? Since we’re being honest, and since today seems like a day in which the truth simply wants to come out?”

Oscar looked down at him, once more meeting his gaze.

“Your aunt and I were talking. Before this—before I knew about…” He shook his head. “The reason why I was acting so strange… was… Well, your aunt was afraid she couldn’t give you what you needed and… I was going to ask you at the cafe, before Salem showed up, and—”

“Oz?”

Ozpin shook his head, appearing to not have heard Oscar at all, “I was contemplating something. Over the past few weeks. Since the day of your birthday. You can say no. That is an option. By the time you graduate Beacon, you’ll almost be eighteen anyway. However… I decided I want to give you the option. The final say.”

“What is it?” Oscar asked, his expression slightly frightened from between the branches. “Is it Auntie Em? Is she okay?”

“She’s alright. She just… I just… the question is…” Ozpin shook his head.

“Come on, Oz, you’ve been acting weird all week and it’s been driving me nuts!” Oscar said, understandably frustrated. “Please, just spit it out already!”

Oz swallowed the rather thick lump in his throat, as he took a deep breath, “Your Aunt wished to hand custody of you over to me.”

“C-custody?” Oscar’s voice was small. His face grew somewhat bright, but then quickly vanished into anger. “Was this before or after you knew about—?!”

“As I said. I didn’t know about the relation until today.”

Oscar’s face softened again, his eyes looking watery. “And what do you mean I get the final say? As in what—you already—you made a decision to—?”

Ozpin nodded, his own eyes growing strangely wet. “The last blank is yours to sign. If you want to.”

There was a shower of leaves from above as Oscar came down from his branch, plopping down next to him. “You mean that?” He asked, his voice wobbly, the tears falling from his eyes. “But—but Auntie Em, she—!”

“If you or her thinks I’m going to cut her out of your life simply because she no longer has custody over you, you’re both mistaken. I’ll drag her here _screaming_ to come see you if that’s what it takes. Not that I would have to. I’m sure she’s dying to see you again.”

Oscar looked like he wanted to hug him, but, given that they were in a tree at the moment, with branches that could snap at any second, he wisely refrained from the idea.

Instead, he got more comfortable on his own branch and smiled, kicking out his feet. “Can we both agree that this is the weirdest day ever?”

“Oscar, my boy, it’s been a strange _week_ ,” Ozpin laughed.

“More like a strange _year_.” Oscar sighed, slumping against the tree trunk. “I don’t think I could have ever imagined myself here…”

“Oh,” Ozpin glanced down, “in a tree?”

Oscar laughed. “Come on. You know what I mean.”

Ozpin chuckled. “I know,” he said fondly. They both turned their gazes toward the sky.

“What now?”

“I don’t know,” Ozpin said truthfully.

“Salem told you to stay away from me. What’s going to happen if you don’t?”

“I don’t know,” he said again. “But I won’t let any harm come to you. I promise. Whatever she has planned, we’ll overcome it together.”

“Okay.” Oscar smiled and Oz could tell by the look on the boy’s face that he believed him. “So, do I _call_ you Dad now, or?”

Ozpin laughed, and he looked down at the ground, thinking it over, “Call me whatever you like. You can refrain from it until those papers are signed though. Wait until it’s official if that’s what you want.”

“Okay, I can do that.” Oscar nodded, and let out a low breath as the wind blew past them, caressing their hair and making the collar on Oz’s suit sway in the breeze, “Guess that means we should probably get down, huh?”

“Yes, probably.”

“Yeah,” Oscar chuckled in a sheepish way, “I’m still afraid of heights.”

Ozpin looked up and realized that Oscar had in fact been clinging to the trunk with both arms the entire time. “Oh! Oh dear! Alright, don’t panic. I’ll get you down.”

Ozpin slowly moved and got down to a lower branch. “Now, let go of the trunk and slowly make your way down to the one I was on. There you go—use that branch for leverage—see, you’re doing just fine! I’ll catch you if you fall, okay?”

“O-okay!”

They lowered themselves one branch at a time, Ozpin telling Oscar the sturdiest holds and places to stand on.

“Are you alright?” Ozpin called up.

“Yeah, I can make it the rest of the way down,” Oscar said with another embarrassed laugh.

Ozpin dropped down and Oscar soon followed, sliding down the bark until he reached the ground.

“How on earth did you even get up there in the first place?” Ozpin asked, patting the twigs and leaves off Oscar back. He plucked a few leaves from his hair before Oscar opted to just shake off like a wet puppy.

“Adrenaline, I think?” Oscar said when he was done, looking back up at the tree they’d been in. He reached up to pluck the twigs out of Ozpin’s own hair. “Maybe we should hurry inside before Knife mistakes your head for a bird’s nest.”

Ozpin glanced up at Knife, the crow perched on the lowest branch of the tree they’d just been in. “Don’t even think about it,” He said to the bird, “and also, give me my glasses back!”

Knife released the glasses with a _caw_ and they plopped down onto a pile of leaves.

Ozpin retrieved them and put them back on. He turned back to Oscar. “Well?”

Oscar grinned. “Let’s head back.”

By the time they got back to the house, Salem was long-gone, the front door left wide open out of spite. Ozpin closed the door with a shake of his head. “Tea?”

“Always.”

They went to the kitchen and Ozpin hesitantly went to the drawer where he’d been keeping the adoption papers. “Here.” He handed them to Oscar, who took them over to the table while Ozpin set the kettle.

He sat down across from Oscar, who looked at him with a smile before looking down at the pen he was toying with. “It’s weird. I would’ve never thought… It’s just… we don’t look anything alike, you know?”

“Oh! I made the connection before, but I didn’t think much of it. Merely thought it was a coincidence.” Ozpin got up and grabbed a picture hanging on the wall and handed it to Oscar. “You look nearly identical to my father. The freckles run in my mother’s family, though I wasn’t quite lucky enough to inherit them. As for the hazel eyes, those come from Salem’s father. She… doesn’t exactly like him very much… None of the girls… that is, your… your sisters don’t have them.”

Oscar rubbed his thumb across the picture frame of Ozpin’s father, staring at familiar darkened skin and hair.

“The girls called him _Grandozma_ at first. He thought it was funny and never corrected them. Salem decided to ruin the fun and ordered them to call him by his proper name. From then on they mostly called him Grandpa Oz, which I suspect you would have called him, too.”

“Wait. Why Grandozma?”

Ozpin shrugged, casually, “His name was Ozma.”

Oscar chuckled. “Actually, that’s pretty good. So, this is my old Grandozma.” Ozpin snorted and Oscar turned the picture around, holding it up to his face and trying to mimic the Prince Charming smile the man wore on his face. “What do you think? Spitting image, right?”

Oz let out a chortle, “It’s really kind of off putting, actually,” 

Oscar put the frame down on the table, regarding it thoughtfully for a moment. “Is he alive?”

Ozpin shook his head sadly. “No. He died when I was in my twenties. Shortly after my divorce with Salem. He got… tragically sick. It was something neither me nor my mother ever truly got over.”

Oscar nodded, his eyes lingering on the picture. “I never thought I’d get to know who I looked like. Ever. I just never thought I’d ever be able to know. I mean I’ve done my research and looked through any known archive I could get my hands on. But I was beginning to accept I’d never find anyone from my family and... never know who I looked like…” 

“Ah, so that’s what all those trips to the library were about.” 

Oscar grinned his face growing hot with embarrassment, “Yeah, that was me researching, I just always wondered, you know? And I know it’s not a huge deal. But… I don’t know. It feels kind of nice to know.” He looked down at the papers in front of him. “This is the last sign, right?”

Ozpin swallowed, feeling oddly nervous. “It belongs to you.”

It was odd how quick it was. Days of stirring on this and debating on it, and it only took five seconds for Oscar to swipe his name across the dotted line.

He set the pen down and they both stared at the documents. They weren’t sure what they expected. Some… magical transformation? Like the air would suddenly feel different and they’d felt like completely different people— a father and a son? It wasn’t… precisely like that. They didn’t feel wholly different. They still felt like Oscar and Ozpin, at the end of things.

They met each other’s gazes with a hint of awkwardness coming over them, a silent but prominent _now what_ hung in the air. 

Ozpin heard the whistle of the kettle and stood up. “I’ll... go take care of that. Just, um… Give me a moment..” 

“I’m not going anywhere.”

That sentence held so many undertones that Oz nearly reeled with relief. Just before he walked into the kitchen, Ozpin stopped and turned his head, “Oscar?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad that you’re here.”

Oscar smiled. “Me, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PhantomDragon321-- shoutout to Varianlover333 in the comments. You guessed the twist! VERY Big Brain!! <33 ;DD
> 
> TheAngelofFate – Yeahhhh, you definitely guessed it! Kudos for connecting the dots. This was the chapter that Snom and I have been excited for. It’s not THE chapter we’ve been waiting for you guys to react to. But it’s definitely close 
> 
> As always, Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated in the comments down below! We'll see you guys in the next one! Toodles!


	10. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oscar and Ruby arrange a date for Glynda and Ozpin!

To say that Oz felt _good_ after his little encounter with Salem, would be a bold face lie. A lie that would surely get him struck by lightning at the mere murmur of it. Because no, he wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay at all. Salem may have revealed that Oscar was his son, gave him documents to prove it, but it wasn’t like she did it out of the goodness of her heart. Salem never did anything like that to anyone, least of all towards him, who he knew she hated the most in all the world.

No, she had a reason for doing it. She always did. 

It was if, anytime he found the slightest bit of happiness and comfort, Salem would always pop in out of nowhere and ruin it. It’s why he never got close to anyone after the divorce. Why he never proceeded with a relationship with Glynda even though he’d wanted to, ever since she stood by him when he was at his lowest. 

It’s why he never tried to do anything with his life other than be a Headmaster, and most especially why he never opened his heart to any of his students. Because Oz knew in the back of his mind, that Salem would find a way to tarnish it, but he thought…

He thought that after all these years, all this time of her being silent, of her leaving him alone. He thought that maybe she was done with him, that she had moved on and wouldn’t ruin what he had with Oscar. Telling him the truth or no, Oz knew his ex wife. And he knew there was always a method to her madness. And he would be damned if he was going to let her ruin this. Not this time.

And if she thought this was an excuse to visit Oscar , to come by and make his life more miserable now that they both knew he was their son, then she was sorely mistaken. 

She wasn’t coming near Oscar ever again.

Because who knew what she would do to Oscar if she did. She’d likely steal him away, corrupt him by telling him the same lies she told their daughters. He hasn’t seen them in years but Oz knew they most likely hated him because she raised them to hate him. 

He would like to believe, to hope that his baby girls were smart enough to see through their mother’s lies, but he knew that children could be easily manipulated, especially at the young ages his girls had been at the time. 

And not to say that he thought Oscar would believe such lies, because Oscar was already very perceptive, because Oz knew Oscar was already able to get the feeling that Salem was bad news back at the café. Oscar was able to read the room, and was immediately uncomfortable with Salem’s presence. Ozpin knew Oscar was smart, that he wouldn’t fall for whatever Salem told him if they happened to cross paths with her. But there was still a part of him that worried, that was so very worried. He already lost his girls to her corruption. 

Losing Oscar would probably kill him. 

“Oz?”

He looked up and saw Glynda coming into his office with her clipboard like she does every day. He smiled at her. “Ah, Glynda. Good morning.”

Glynda raised an eyebrow at him, and let out a huff of laughter, “I think you mean good afternoon, Oz.”

Oz blinked, taking a minute so that his brain could process her words, his gaze moved to the clock on his desk. And she was right—something Glynda always was—it was already afternoon. “Ah, so it is.” He had sat here contemplating everything for so long that he missed breakfast and was about to miss the daily routine he had with Oscar. 

He was still amazed that Oscar was even coming by his cabin. It had been five days since the incident with Salem and the reveal of their relation, and yet, here Oscar was, still coming over, having tea and pastries and talking about fairytales, like always. It surprised him really, but there was a part of him that breathed a sigh of relief. 

And here he is, nearly missing that because of his worries of Salem and the obvious influence she still had on him. “I have nearly missed my time with Oscar.” He stood up from his chair immediately, and strolled over to the door. “Thank you for reminding me, Glynda.”

Then she surprised him by moving closer and curling her arm around his so that they could walk together. He tried very hard to not let a blush appear on his cheeks but it was difficult whenever she got so close. He let out a nervous cough, “May I help you?”

She smiled at him and in one swift motion, handed him her clipboard. He took it and saw that there was a note pinned up top. He recognized the handwriting instantly, the note in Oscar’s neat and slow signature read:

> _Glynda, if at all possible,_
> 
> _Could you come to Oz’s cabin during the time he and I have tea and hot cocoa?_
> 
> _I have a surprise for you both, something that I think Oz needs after everything that’s been going on_
> 
> _Sincerely, Oscar Pine_

Oz let out a sigh of exasperation. “ _Oscar…_ ”

Glynda let out a hum of amusement, “Yes, it seems that your boy is planning something for us.”

“God knows _what_ ,” He handed her clipboard back to her and they set off out the door and down the hallway, “I believe we should be nervous.”

They strolled through Forever Falls, the sound of their feet crunching over the fallen leaves being the only sound around them until Glynda let out soft chuckle. “I think it is rather sweet that he has something planned for you.” Glynda tightened her arm around his and Oz felt his cheek grow a little warmer, “He obviously cares about you a great deal. I can see it.”

Yes, subtly was never really his strong suit, “It appears so.”

“He’s worried about you.”

Oz let out a sigh, nodding, “I know he is.”

There was a pause, just a small pause as his cabin came into view when Glynda spoke again, “I am as well.” He blinked for a moment, turned to her and gave her a look of confusion, but she simply smiled sadly at him, “You’ve been acting differently for a while. I mean, I know I’m used to you being strange and distant but I’d like to think I can tell when something is bothering you.”

A scoff of disbelief escaped his lips, “Glynda…”

Just then Oz heard the door to his cabin open, he jumped at the sudden intrusion of the moment they were having, looking to his left to see Oscar and… _Miss Rose_ , coming out of his home? Oz stepped away from Glynda and looked towards his son and his student, wondering exactly what was going on.

“Oh dear, they’re grinning as though they’ve gotten away with something illegal.” He shook his head, and turned to Glynda, giving her an amused smile. “I believe I was right when I told you we should be nervous, Glynda.”

Oscar let out a noise that was between a scoff and laughter, “Hey! Don’t assume things, we’ve done nothing wrong.”

Oz tilted his head and smirked at his son, “ _Yet_.”

Oscar returned his expression with one of his own. “Honest! Nothing bad is going on here!” 

“Then why did you call Glynda here?” 

“Because—”

Just then Ruby, who’d been quiet the entire time, apparently could not take the silence any longer and jumped in front of Oscar, “Oscar and I arranged for you and Professor Goodwitch to go on a date!”

A breeze blew past them as the words hung in the air. 

“ _Ruby_!” 

“I’m sorry!" she squeaked. "I got too excited!” 

Oscar let out an exasperated sigh, “Yeah! I got that! But I was building up to it!” 

Oz could hardly process their conversation, his brain short circuited at the word _‘date’_ . “Pardon me, if I may. But you both did _what_?”

Oscar looked away from Ruby and gave him a sheepish look. “We… uh— kinda booked you a reservation at a restaurant for lunch in like twenty minutes?”

“And how on earth did you two accomplish that?”

Ruby rubbed the back of her hair, “ _Uh…_ I may have asked my uncle Qrow?”

Ozpin narrowed his eyes, “ _Qrow_ helped you?”

Glynda let out a low noise of disbelief, and annoyance. “I’m gonna smack him the next time I see him for arranging this without our say so.”

Oscar suddenly looked nervous now, like he did something wrong and Oz felt the need to go to him. But stopped when a look of determination came across his features. “Look, I know you’ve been stressed out lately. And you need a break other than just spending time with me.” Oscar looked to Ruby then, who gave him a smile and a thumbs up. “Just please? Go and have a good time?”

And to add the final nail in the coffin, his son gave him the puppy eyes. Oz pressed his lips into a thin line and let out another sigh, turning to Glynda, “Only if Glynda wants to.”

Glynda intertwined her fingers together, “Well, the reservation is already booked. Might as well enjoy it.” 

The two shared a smile, for a second or two, “Alright, we will go.” 

Oscar and Ruby let out cheers of unison, making Oz and Glynda roll their eyes at them. “ _Yes_!” 

Oz looked at Oscar, “Will you be alright? Missing out on tea and cocoa?”

Oscar waved him off, “Yeah! I’ll be fine. I may just stay here if that’s alright with you?”

It was more than alright with him. 

Truth be told, it was actually something he was thinking about for a while. During the summer break when all his students left for home, Oscar was left in his dorm room, all alone, not being able to do anything other than going to and from Oz’s place and his room on campus. 

So Oz thought to himself, even long before this all started, that maybe it would be acceptable if he could give Oscar that second bedroom? He thought about it before, but never brought it up, feeling like it was appropriate. 

But now? Knowing their relation? 

He thought that maybe he could mention it? “You can stay as long as you like, you can even stay in the guest bedroom I have, if you feel like you can’t go back to your dorm. I know sometimes your room can be confining.”

Oscar smiled at him and he returned it. “Cool.” 

Then he turned his complete attention to Glynda, extending his arm. “Shall we?”

She reached forward and placed her arm around his, “Of course.”

* * *

The restaurant that Oscar, Ruby and Qrow reserved was actually at the Quill and Ink owned by the Garfield family. Luckily, the building was within walking distance from Beacon, so they arrived there a little earlier than expected. Their table was reserved, by the window, underneath the chandelier, complete with candles and everything. 

It was funny. Oz had dreamt of actually going on a date with Glynda for a long time now. He dreamed of sweeping her off her feet and dancing the night away but now that he was here, he felt like he was about to have a panic attack. He couldn't help but stare at her. The chandelier seemed to make her emerald eyes sparkle and her blonde hair glow. 

He was mesmerized by her, as he often was, but never dared to try and become anything more to her than what they already were, out of fear of… ruining it with romance, but he really couldn’t deny it any longer. 

Truly, he was absolutely smitten.

“Oz?”

He blinked, and Ozpin felt his ears burn when he realized that Glynda had noticed him staring at her. “Ah! Apologies, Glynda.”

She gave him a look of concern, as she reached forward and grasped his hand, “Are you alright?”

“Nothing, at all. It’s just…” He smiled at her concern, always grateful she stayed by his side no matter how stressful he most likely was. “You look really beautiful.” He let out a snort once he witnessed her cheeks turn a deep red at his endearing compliment. 

“ _Goodness_.” She murmured placing her hand over her forehead and looked down, “You said that just to make me blush didn’t you?”

“Absolutely not.” He shook his head and squeezed her hand. “I meant it.”

Glynda swallowed, and tilted her head, giving him a smirk. “I’ve never seen this side of you, Ozpin.” 

“It would make sense that you wouldn’t see this side of me.” He used his other hand to pick at his pasta salad, “I haven’t been myself lately.”

Glynda nodded, she let go of his hand to take a sip of her drink, “I know you haven’t. It’s been a bit concerning, actually.”

Oz looked her in the eyes then, “You said that before. Was it really that bad?” 

Glynda met his gaze and they stared at each other for a moment before she spoke. “You’ve been more distant than normal. Yesterday was the first time you’ve come to your office in the last couple days. And even then, you were spacing out more than normal.” She broke eye contact for a moment, “For a while I thought it was something I did,”

Ozpin’s heart lurched in his throat, his mind became almost blank with fear as he reached forward and took her hand again. “No, Glynda. What’s been going on has truly nothing to do with you.” He paused and looked down at his half eaten dinner to try and find the right words. “I just… the last few days have been… not _difficult_ per say but scattered?” 

Should he tell her? 

She had every right to know what had transpired, as did James and Qrow eventually. But right now, Glynda felt guilty; she believed that his current state of mind, or lack thereof, was her fault. He had to tell her, but even the thought of doing so made him want to vomit. Fear gripped his very soul, if he told her, even though he knew she would never abandon him, there was still a voice that tried to convince him otherwise. 

She gave him a deep look of worry, and interlocked their fingers, “Oz, whatever is going on? You can tell me—”

“Salem came to see me.” 

He felt like a weight had been lifted as soon as the sentence left his lips. He bowed his head and let out a sigh of relief. But then he looked back up at Glynda and noticed that her eyes were as wide as saucer plates, then a fog came across her expression. “Glynda…?”

“When?”

“What?”

Glynda focused her eyes on him, a frown on her face. “ _When_ did this happen?”

Oz swallowed nervously, “Twice. The first time was at a café a while ago and the next was…” He stopped abruptly, trailing off as he realized just then, that she practically tainted his home with her presence. “ _Glynda._ ” He squeezed her hand uncomfortably tight but she held on anyway. “She came to my home. My cabin, she was _there_.”

“ _What_?” Glynda sounded livid, her voice sounded between calm and dangerous. 

His breathing was irregular but he continued regardless, “That’s not all.” 

Glynda looked as though she was on the verge of getting up and going to find Salem herself. “Oz, _what did she say_?”

Oz took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pounding in his ears, “Perhaps it would be best to start from the beginning…”

So he told her. It was difficult and hard, and maybe he rambled for far too long on things, and maybe he wasn’t making much sense. But Glynda waited patiently, hearing what he had to say. She’d already known about him and Oscar’s Fairytale meetings and discussions, about their challenge to find their agreed favorite out of them all.

About Oscar’s situation, why he was at Beacon. About Emma Pine and their discussion. The adoption papers and the ultimate decision that made him start acting so strangely. And then, at last, Salem. The café. Her, entering his cabin. Sliding those files across from him. A part of him wanted to stop. He actually never really wanted to start this conversation, but now that he was talking, now that he had opened the floodgates, he couldn’t stop. 

So, finally, out came the truth. Ozpin took in another deep breath, “Oscar is my son.”

Glynda’s green eyes were so wide that Oz feared they would pop out of place, she reached up with her other hand and ran it through her blonde curls. “Wait… Are you sure? _Really_ _sure_ , Oz? Because we both know she has lied before.”

He nodded once and only once. “She was _very_ thorough, pulled no punches. She found multiple documents, and a birth certificate. He’s my son. And… _and she kept it from me_. She had him secretly after we divorced, gave him up for adoption without ever asking my consent. All to spite me, to break me down even further than I already was,” He felt his eyes burning, his heart and blood felt hot and angry at the knowledge of what she had done to cause him more pain. 

“Does Oscar know?”

He nodded, “He overheard us talking. And that’s—that’s still not all.” He gave her a wet smile of disbelief. “Remember when I told you the conversation I had with Emma Pine? Where she gave me permission to care for Oscar?”

Glynda nodded. “Right. The papers.”

“I signed them. Before the café. I was going to tell Oscar before she showed up. He didn’t find out about them until the news of our relation broke.”

“What did he say?” Glynda inquired, leaning forward. 

Ozpin laughed, wiping away something from his face, which he only just realized was a tear. He sniffed and nodded, looking Glynda in the eyes. He felt he couldn’t say it without reality breaking. 

Like if he spoke it out loud, it would no longer be true.

“ _Oh Oz,_ ” Glynda’s voice was filled with happiness, aimed directly at him. “That’s wonderful.” However, as quickly as her glee showed itself, her seriousness just as quickly took its place. “But what about Salem? She wouldn’t just reveal that kind of information for no reason—”

“I know, I know,” Ozpin sighed, wiping at his face again, “But… I feel like that’s something we should worry about later. For now, I figured we ought to enjoy ourselves.”

“Well. Now I know what Oscar meant by that note. Seems you two have had quite the week.”

Ozpin chuckled, relaxing back in his seat. “It’s just nice to have somebody else know. I don’t know how I’ll ever break the news to anyone else.”

“Well, like you said. That can come later, right?” Glynda lifted her wine glass and Ozpin lifted his. 

“What’s this for?” 

“A toast.” 

Oz hummed in thought, “For what?”

“Because my mother used to say _‘focus on the good now and the bad later_ ’.” Glynda eyes sparkled with delight and happiness, “And right now, we should celebrate because Oz… you have a second chance. You get to be a father again.”

He smiled, feeling a warmth in his chest burst out by her words, _“I know_.” 

The small chime of them clinking together made him smile. The taste of bitter alcohol, however, made him screw up his face. He flinched back with a sputter and glared at the liquid in offense.

Glynda laughed into her hand. “I feel like I’ve just given a lemon to a baby.”

“What _is_ this?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.” Glynda slid the glass over to her and motioned for the waiter. He gestured for him to come closer and whispered into his ear. When he went away, Glynda sent him a grin and laughed a wicked laugh.

“What did you tell him, Glynda?” he asked, leaning on his elbows.

“Nothing,” she said innocently, sipping on her wine.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Maybe I should have had you order from the kids menu, since you hate these adult drinks so much.”

“That’s mean,” Ozpin said, laughing despite himself. “What did you tell him, Glynda?”

But Glynda was laughing too hard to herself to answer. She put a hand to her mouth to stop from spitting wine at him. She swallowed and said, “Don’t look at me like that, you’re going to make me choke!”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not off of one glass of wine I’m not. Luckily, you were kind enough to give me yours.”

“Something tells me you like picking on me.”

“Would it be weird of me to say that you seem to like being picked on?”

“I’m being bullied. By my own assistant no less.”

“Assistant? Please, I think I’ve long since stopped being a mere assistant. I practically run the place while you’re off reading Fairy Tales with your son, discussing symbolism and themes and whatnot.”

“Companion, then,” Ozpin said with a smooth smile.

Glynda raised an eyebrow. “ _Companion_? You know, thinking about it, they should probably be calling _me_ Headmaster. That has a good ring to it I think. _Headmistress Goodwitch_. You can still be my assistant, though when I take over. You’re adorable enough to keep around.”

“It’s true. I _am_ adorable.”

“You’re not even mad about me saying I’m going to steal your job?”

“Glynda, you can have my job. Goodness knows you’ve already stolen it, among other things.”

“Oh? And what other things have I stolen?”

Ozpin opened his mouth, a flush on his cheeks. It was only just then did he realize how close they’d gotten to one another, their faces only a few inches apart.

Someone clearing their throat caused them to move back. Something sweet was placed before them. Ozpin gasped, folding his fingers together as he stared at the mug of hot cocoa and the enormous chocolate cake slice set in front of him.

The waiter walked off and Ozpin sent Glynda an affectionate look. “You know me so well.”

“I try.”

Ozpin glanced around, then leaned forward, whispering, “This isn’t going to be one of those situations where we’re ambushed and forced to painfully smile through a rendition of _Happy_ _Birthday_ , are we?”

Glynda shook her head. “No. I think I might possibly die.”

“If we see one waiter make a move, we pounce.”

“Good idea,” she whispered back, brandishing a steak knife. “You know how to hide a body?”

“I’m sure we could call Qrow. He probably knows how.”

They both fell into quiet laughter.

“You know something?” Glynda ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass. “I should have asked you to do this sooner.”

“Hm? You?”

“Well, I knew you were never going to do it. And I don’t blame you or anything. After all that happened. And, really, I’ve actually been thinking about it for a long time.”

Ozpin blinked, his face going red. “Asking me out?”

Glynda nodded. “I just… wasn’t sure how you’d take it.”

“Believe it or not,” he cleared his throat, “that’s the same reason I never asked you. I didn’t want to… ruin what we had. I didn’t want you to leave.”

“Oz,” Glynda said gently, “I’d _never_ leave. If I ever left Beacon, I’d throw you in a travel sack and take you with me.”

Ozpin laughed. “That’s sweet. I personally wouldn’t mind you kidnapping me.”

Glynda shook her head, “See, and that’s precisely why I’d take you with me.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because you’re an absolute dork.”

Ozpin snorted. “Well so are you, believe it or not!”

“I am a perfectly respectable businesswoman, thank you.”

“Who also just so happens to be a dork,” Ozpin teased. “It’s just that nobody else has as sharp an eye as I do. I like to think I’m rather observant as well.”

“ _Really_?” Glynda sent him a challenging glance, “and in what way am I _‘dorky’_?”

Ozpin cleared his throat, leaned in close. “Does the band name Pink Soda ring any bells to you?”

Glynda’s face went bright red. “No!” 

“Where were they based? Atlas, I think, surprisingly enough. Rather cheery band for Atlas. Very pink, too. And fluffy.”

“You have something against the color pink, Oz?”

“No, actually, I quite like it. I could listen to Pretty Pink Massacre all day. Which band member sings that one again? KittyKitty or Giddy Prince 12?”

“Don’t even go there, Oz. Pretty Pink Massacre is sung by Giddy Prince! KittyKitty can’t reach those kinds of high notes—!” Glynda smacked a hand over her mouth with a squeak that Ozpin found hilariously adorable. “W-wait a moment?! How do _you_ know I listen to Pink Soda?!”

“You were humming it to yourself once.”

“And you recognized it? Wait a second...” Glynda leaned in. “ _Professor Ozpin._ Are _you_ a fellow Pink Soda fan?”

Ozpin wanted to disappear into his scarf. Instead, he cleared his throat, “Well, I do find their songs to be—while certainly new and odd—quite a, _um_ , an interesting spin on the genre known as pop music—”

Glynda snorted, smacking a hand over her face. “I can’t believe it! After all of this time! You think you _know_ someone! What else do you like?”

“Nothing I’m sure you don’t already know about. Although, truth be told, I don’t know as much about you. Save for that your favorite color is purple, and you have a fondness for the smell of lavender. And you have a freckle behind your right ear.” Ozpin’s face burned again. “I’m sorry, was that too personal—?”

“No,” Glynda shook her head. She tucked some of her curled bangs back behind her ear, “Do I really have a freckle?”

Ozpin nodded, somewhat sheepishly.

“What else do you know about me?”

“Well…” Ozpin prattled off a few more things while they ate off the chocolate cake that had been set before them. She was ambidextrous. She had a belly laugh if one got her to laugh hard enough. She preferred cats over dogs, and once said his hair looked fluffy, a complement of which made him giddy the rest of the day the first time he heard it. “Does it take as long as it seems to do your hair?”

“What? The bun? Not really.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without it.”

“Really?” To his surprise, she reached up and pulled out a few bobby pins, then the hair tie. Her golden hair fell loose, spilling down over her shoulders. “There! What do you think?”

“I think I’d like to ask who this lovely stranger who’s taken Glynda’s place is.”

“Come now, I don’t look that much different.”

“It’s true. No matter what you do, you’ll always look stunning to me.”

Glynda flushed and averted his gaze. “This has been fun.”

“It has,” he agreed, unable to take his eyes off of her for even a second. It was only then that he realized he hadn’t touched his cocoa, so enraptured in her and their conversation.

“Shall we, then?” Glynda stood up and offered her an arm before he could offer his.

Ozpin chuckled and stood up, wrapping his arm around her extended elbow. “We shall. I just hope Oscar and Ruby didn’t burn the cabin down while we were away.”

They exited the restaurant, their stomachs as full as their hearts, and Glynda paused off to the side of the door. 

“I forgot something.”

“What?” Ozpin asked, worried. “Should we go back in?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Glynda said. “Really, it’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, and I’ve only just rediscovered it tonight while I was with you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Well, first, I’d like to ask your permission, Ozpin.”

Ozpin’s heart hammered against his chest. Glynda was mere inches away from him. “Permission to…?”

Glynda smiled warmly. “Permission to kiss you, Ozpin.”

Ozpin stared at her dumbly. The most he could manage was a nod. How silly, that now of all times he could run out of words. They seemed to escape his ability, seemed to tumble out of his brain and onto the ground in a puddle of alphabet soup.

The letters must have tumbled out and created something, though. He opened his mouth like a silly, slack jawed fool, nodded, and made a noise that was something like an, “uh-huh…”

That seemed to amuse Glynda greatly. Because as she leaned forward, he felt her laughter against his mouth. The giggles that kind of tickled as their lips met. He almost couldn’t withhold his own. Truthfully, he never thought a kiss with Glynda would be like this. For some reason, he always pictured it being far more serious. Like more of a big deal than it was.

And yet, here they were, giggling like school children, like they were about to be caught doing something they shouldn’t be.

It was a fun kiss. A chaste one. And as they pulled away from each other, still between laughter, Ozpin thought he could share a million kisses like that and never get tired of them.

And soon enough, they were back arm-in-arm, no words needed. For as long as they’d known each other, it was almost strange to Ozpin that this hadn’t happened sooner. Because at the moment, his heart was soaring. And he never wanted it to come back down.

They made their way back to Gracie and Glynda slid into the seat next to him, lacing their fingers together.

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“I was wondering something,” Ozpin replied.

“Wondering what?”

“Wondering if I could ever kiss you like that again sometime.”

Glynda chuckled, bent forward again and gave him another peck on the mouth. It was like a shock that went straight to his heartstrings. “Well, from now on,” she said, “all you ever have to do is ask.”

It was a wonder he could even drive straight, his brain was spinning with so much glee.

Eventually, they arrived at Glynda’s apartment. And they stood there a moment longer, holding the other gently. He played with some of the hair that had fallen out of her bun and twirl it in his fingers, making her giggle. They pulled apart only for Oz to get a sudden rush of boldness and pulled her back in for one final kiss, cupping her face so gently.

And then she walked inside her apartment, leaving him a bit ditzy and lovestruck. Oz stared after Glynda while he stood there alone, his mind still reeling from the kisses they had just shared. He turned around and for a brief moment touched his fingers to his lips and grinned, his heart felt all aglow, his body was vibrating with a thousand butterflies. Never has he known such joy of being with someone before.

Never. 

Not even with Salem did he ever feel this joy that Glynda just made him feel, that sudden spark, a jolt to his system that Salem was never able to provide him even before things got so toxic between them. But that kiss, it sent him so high above the clouds he never wanted to come down. He felt another jolt to his heart when he realized something, something very important. 

He loved her.

Being smitten with someone and loving them were two very different things. He adored Glynda, was so wrapped in his adoration for her that he hardly ever knew what to do with himself when he was around her. But he also loved her, really really loved her. He knew he should have said right then, but he was so blown away by that kiss he could hardly think straight.

 _Oh well,_ He thought, heart still soaring, _I’ll tell her tomorrow._

He walked down the street with a pep in his step after that, and he continued to do so back to Gracie and even drummed on the steering wheel all the way back to Beacon. His thought of nothing else but Glynda and their kisses. Knowing that he really needed to thank Oscar for the wonderful night he had planned, even though he went behind his back and got Miss Rose and Qrow involved in it. Oz knew now that his son only did it because he was worried.

Now he was smiling for a different reason. Because it just now dawned on him that not only did he love Glynda, but Oscar too. Loved him as much as any father could love a son. And it had nothing to do with finding out Oscar was his by blood, he loved the boy the moment he opened up his heart to him a year ago. 

He should tell him, but when? When was it an appropriate time to tell someone you loved them?

Oscar said he was still going to be there by the time he got back, and it wasn’t like it was late. It wasn’t even dark yet. Only seven in the evening, maybe he could tell Oscar now? Maybe while he’s thanking him for the evening he planned with Glynda, he could sit Oscar down and really tell him those three little words? To tell him how much he cared, how much he mattered to him.

His feet moved a little quicker of their own accord, as he practically sprinted down the pathway towards his cabin, Ozpin smiled when he noticed the lights were still on and the door was still propped open. He jogged up the steps, and walked inside. 

“Oscar?” He called out, joy still laced throughout his voice. “Oscar, I—”

Whatever joy he was feeling in his heart died the moment he rounded into the living room and saw Oscar sitting at his chair, with tears falling down his face. 

His heart felt like it jumped straight into his throat, “Oscar!” And he moved with purpose, in three long strides he moved towards his son and fell to his knees in front of him, holding his shoulders. “Oscar? What’s wrong?”

Oscar looked to be at a loss for words, those hazel eyes looked up at him, red rimmed and heartbroken. A sob escaped him and with shaky hands, handed Oz the letter that had been crinkled in his fingers.

Looking down, Oz didn’t even need to read the words on the envelope because, simply looking at the thing made the bottom of his stomach drop. Because he recognized it immediately, having gone through this once before. 

“ _No…_ ” He whispered, bile rose in his throat as he couldn’t help but flash back to years ago when his girls had been taken from him because the court had deemed Salem more fit to raise their girls then he was, “ _Not again_ …”

Oscar was shaking underneath his fingertips. “O-Oz?” The quivering in the boy’s voice made him tear his gaze away from the envelope. “Was she… Was she really that bad towards you?” Oscar lip his lower lip to keep a sob from escaping, “I mean, I saw how you were at the café when she got too close and I saw the mark on your neck before you covered it up. Did she… hurt you?” 

Oz opened his mouth to reply, but found his throat was too tight to do so. He closed his eyes and bit his upper lip as he remembered the times Salem hurt him, the scars she left behind even after she was gone, and how ashamed he was of those scars. “Many… Many times.”

“H-How many?”

Oz let out a low hollowed breath, “I lost count.”

The answer proved to not be what Oscar wanted to hear because his expression turned to dread and any pigment that was left in his tanned face drained upon hearing those words. “Then… When she gets me—” Fresh tears spilled down those freckled cheeks, “Will she do even _worse_ to me?”

Oz choked, all the breath he had in his lungs left him then. 

He felt like he was about to plunge into an abyss against his will. God, if Salem got her hands on Oscar, she would do so much worse. She’d likely kill him, if anything, to shatter him completely, because she knew how much he adored Oscar. And the scary part of that was, she could make it look like an accident. 

But no…

No, he won’t let her.

This won’t be like last time. Because last time he was already broken and had nothing left to fight for. But this time he did. He was stronger now, albeit still badly damaged, but he could fight and he _would_ fight for Oscar, nothing and no one was ever going to take his son away from him. 

He reached forward and grasped the nape of Oscar’s neck ever so gently and pulled him forward. Holding him tightly to his chest and shaking his head fiercely. “ _I won’t let her._ ” He whispered, running his fingers through brown locks, “I promise you. She _won’t_ tear us apart, okay? We will go to court and we are going to _win_.” 

Oscar sagged against him and buried his face in his suit, but he didn’t return the embrace. 

That was fine, this was something that was still so new to them, even though Oz was ready and willing to breach this new step in their relationship. To give physical affection, that doesn’t mean Oscar was ready for it. So he let it be, “You make it sound like this is going to be a breeze.” Oscar murmured against him, “How can you be so sure?” 

“Because…” Oz pressed his cheek against his son’s temple, “Because I love you.” He felt Oscar stiffen against him, his entire body going rigged at his confession. Oz let out a wet chuckle, “What? Did you think I didn’t?” He could feel Oscar blushing with embarrassment and never the one to give up an opportunity to tease his boy, even despite the obvious elephant in the room, Ozpin gave Oscar a gentle squeeze, “I do though. I started loving you long before I knew you were my son and knowing that you _are_ only makes me love you that much more.”

Oscar let out a chuckle that sounded more like a sob, “Wow that was corny. Did you get that off a Hallmark movie?”

“I’ll have you know those are heartfelt and ahead of their time.”

“Ahead of who’s time? Mine or yours?”

Oz snorted and gave Oscar one final squeeze before letting him go. “ _What_ am I gonna do with you?”

Oscar smiled warily, then met Oz’s gaze, those Hazel eyes filled with a fear that made him want to shield the boy from all harm, “Not leave me?”

His chest felt like someone stabbed him right then. 

He truly loved this boy, his baby boy, and he was _never_ going to let anyone take him away.

Reaching forward, Ozpin cupped Oscar’s cheeks with such a tenderness he thought he lost long ago when his daughters were taken away, when his love for Salem died the moment she tried to kill him.

“ _Never_.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PhantomDragon321--see, the funny part is that me and Angel were like 'Heyy!! How about a cute Ozglyn date before we get into the real angst of the story?? And we were like "THAT SOUNDS GREAT!!" And THEN we realized we were both Aces who have never been on a real date before!! So hey, here's to hoping we didn't do too bad with the romance XDD
> 
> TheAngelofFate-- Yeahhhhhh I have no idea how to write romance without feeling like I'm doing something wrong????? But we thought this would be a great calm before the storm! From here on out, things are going to get interesting! >:)
> 
> As always, Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated in the comments down below! We'll see you guys in the next one! Toodles!


	11. The Trial

Oscar couldn’t say he understood all that was happening. As if a fifteen-year old—even one as well-read as Oscar—could figure out all of the law jargon that got thrown around throughout the next few weeks.

“Conservatorship of a minor” and Salem being “under duress” when she gave him up for one reason or another and now having some ability to fight back for him. Something about her and Ozpin’s divorce. Court dates and lawyers and money and Oscar being towed around this way and that way, not really understanding anything, save for the need to curl into a ball and try to disappear.

And Ozpin was trying his best. Really, he was. He offered comfort where he could. Said that everything was going to be okay, that they had a good case, that he wouldn’t let Salem get ahold of him.

But at some point, words started to become meaningless. For what did Oscar know what made for a good case and what didn’t? All he knew was that if Salem somehow won, then he would probably be taken away. Taken away from the place he cared about. Away from his friends and Ozpin and the cabin he’d long since started to call home. 

Ozpin and Glynda were discussing court things again and Oscar had to press his hands over his ears from where he was curled up on the windowsill. He wanted this to be over. Actually, he never, ever wanted this to start to begin with.

Learning Ozpin was his father was something he’d been able to understand. It felt so right. He’d already started to feel like a father to Oscar long before it had even come up.

Something he’d never even considered was that if Ozpin was his father, then that truly did mean that Salem was his mother. That cruel woman who’d done who knows how many unspeakable things to Ozpin. Who took away his life and his daughters, who ruined everything for him.

The woman who didn’t want Oscar when he was born. Who gave him up. Out of hatred? Out of spite? What did it mean to be related to a person like that? Did he have an inkling of that hate and cruelty in him, too?

Oscar didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about being _Salem’s_ son. He didn’t want her to be his mother. He couldn’t fathom the idea.

And what would she do to him if she suddenly had him in her clutches? 

Oscar saw the scars on Ozpin, the scars he usually kept hidden well, by long sleeves and turtlenecks and scarves. But Oscar had glimpsed them occasionally, when Ozpin rolled up his sleeves to do dishes or when he tilted his head a little too far. They were hard, mean ragged lines. The wounds had been deep, for the scars to still stick around after all of this time.

And this was _Ozpin._

For the past year, Oscar had considered Ozpin something as untouchable, truthfully speaking. 

All six foot six inches of him. 

The way in which he carried himself with such pride and dignity on campus, who was so kind and warm here in his cabin—who’d never done anything wrong to anybody. It was hard to think that he’d once been in a situation where he was being hurt and injured every day of his life. Oscar didn’t think anyone could be that mean, where they’d hurt someone else like that. And it brought forth an anger in him, made him feel sick to his stomach.

Salem had hurt Ozpin. Hurt him so deeply, he still felt the aftermath even now.

And what _would_ she do if she got her hands on Oscar? He was terrified to think about it.

So while Ozpin rattled off about the solidity of the case, Oscar couldn’t say he felt very comforted by that.

“Oscar?”

Oscar lifted his head, pulling his hands away from his ears and opening his eyes, which he hadn’t realized he’d squeezed shut.

Ozpin looked over him worriedly. He slowly sat down on the windowsill across from him. He sighed, seemingly unable to come up with words. By now, every comfort he could think of had already been said ten times over.

“I’m sorry.”

 _That_ one was different. Oscar shook his head, setting his chin on top of his knee and looking out the window. “I don’t blame you.”

“I’m sorry anyway. You shouldn’t have to go through this.”

Oscar thought for a moment, then looked back at Ozpin. “Do you… do you _really_ think that… we can win?”

Ozpin met his gaze steadily, “I do.” He took in a breath and scooted closer. “You’re fifteen, meaning you have a lot more say in this than you might think you do. When the judge asks you, all you have to do is answer truthfully.”

Oscar hugged his leg tighter to his chest. His eyes stung. “I’m still scared.”

“I know.” Ozpin reached out and put his hands on his shoulders. “I am, too.”

“You thought you’d win the case for your daughters,” Oscar panicked, “What if the same thing happens and she manages to win and—!”

Ozpin cupped his face in his hands. “I will do _everything_ in my power to make sure that doesn’t happen,” he said firmly. “We just have to keep ourselves positive.”

Oscar sniffed and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Ozpin’s chest. A protective arm wrapped around him.

The embrace didn’t last as long as Oscar wanted it to, because Ozpin was pulling away not a moment later. “I have to go talk to the lawyers. Will you be alright staying here?”

Oscar nodded, wiping his face. 

He could tell Ozpin didn’t want to leave, but Oscar knew he also didn’t have a choice. So he watched him and Glynda walk away.

Once they were gone, Oscar went upstairs, to the guest bedroom that had become his over the past week. Ozpin and Glynda had decorated it for him, with everything he liked. He’d even moved his bedsheets over here as he found it a lot more comfortable than the dorm room he’d been placed in.

He didn’t want to imagine having to sleep in a different room. He didn’t want to imagine being forced to go with Salem. He wanted to be here. More than anywhere else in the world. He plopped down on his bed and curled up on the sheets.

Maybe it was the stress, but apparently he fell asleep shortly after. He was awoken by someone shaking his shoulder.

“Oscar. Are you alright?”

Oscar raised his head, then sleepily sat up. “Yeah…”

“I made dinner,” Ozpin said.

“Should I be worried?” Oscar managed to joke.

Ozpin let out a warm chuckle. “Possibly.”

Oscar didn’t know when exactly it had happened. Maybe when Ozpin gave him this room and he started spending the night? But the cabin really had become a home to him. And Ozpin his family. They ate meals together and talked together and hung out together. Sometimes in silence, like when they were both reading in the living room.

But it was a comfortable silence. It didn’t need to be broken. Things didn’t need to be said. They were in each other’s company, and that was enough.

In moments like these, Oscar didn’t feel the weight of the court case looming over their heads. He instead felt like that this was how things were always going to be, and that nothing would ever change it.

He wanted so badly to hold onto that feeling, to know that it was true. But the worry kept nagging at the back of his mind. The fear that he’d have this for only so much longer before the rug was ripped out from underneath him.

Before he lost this comfortable quiet. Before he lost his home, and Ozpin, and everyone else. 

And he possibly wasn’t the only one feeling that. Actually, he was vaguely aware of Ozpin feeling the same sorts of things. Of course he would be.

He just didn’t expect the sound of sniffing across from him. And he didn’t anticipate looking up to find that Ozpin had broken down into tears.

Oscar was up within seconds, moving to the other side of the dinner table. He didn’t know what else to do other than embrace Ozpin. To hold him and push his face into his shoulder and—

And start crying, too. 

“I’m sorry,” Ozpin whispered, holding him so tightly, “I just don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to lose you, too. I can’t. I don’t know what I’ll do—”

“I know,” Oscar said around the lump in his throat. 

They held onto each other, as if this would be the last time they’d ever be able to hold onto each other.

And neither of them, no matter how positive and hopeful they tried to remain, could shake the feeling that it would be.

* * *

Oscar hadn’t ever been in a courtroom before. He’d never thought he’d ever talk to a judge before. He’d never seen Ozpin as tired and stressed as he was right now, or Glynda for that matter. And truth be told, Oscar had never felt this tired or stressed himself, not in all of his life.

Certainly if one were to ask him if he’d ever think it possible to be in this kind of situation a few weeks before now, he’d probably scoff. Of course he wouldn’t. He was sure nobody could ever anticipate any of this. Nor know how exactly to react to it, other than with intense fatigue.

As Oscar entered the building, he noted that it was remarkably cold.

The entire thing felt like a blur to him. The lawyers and what they were talking about—it all felt like they couldn’t _possibly_ be talking about him. There was no way this was all for _him_ , right? He was just a boy from Mistral, and now the entire room was talking about him. He was the center of a legal battle.

And honestly, he didn’t know how to take that. In spite of the tired bags under his eyes, Ozpin seemed so remarkably calm.

And yet, Oscar noted that Salem seemed far calmer. She was smiling throughout the entire thing.

That’s what truly sickened Oscar and made him feel like throwing up. That she was _smiling_. Like this was a _game_. Like toying with people’s lives was just some fun hobby she had.

She seemed to sense him staring at her, because she turned her head the slightest bit and their eyes locked from across the courtroom.

Oscar’s fingers tightened into his pants. If it were permitted, he’d end this entire court case right now by going over and punching her square in the jaw. Grab the gavel from the judge and slam it down— _bang, bang—_ _court session over, everyone go home, by decree of Oscar Pine!_

And then grab Ozpin and haul out of there before anyone could react.

But, well, this was civil law which, apparently, meant people had to be _civil_ about it.

But that didn’t mean Oscar didn’t glare at Salem until she finally turned her head away. Maybe if he stared hard enough, he could set her hair on fire.

The judge calling his name caught Oscar’s attention.

And just like that, all of his anger drained into fear. He took a deep breath, looking back at Ozpin for a split second before he made his way over to the judge.

He followed the man into an office that felt horribly confined.

Oscar’s heart pounded in his ears the entire time. So many questions were thrown his way and he tried to be as honest about them as he could. He felt almost like a criminal, like if he said the wrong thing, he would be sent off to jail. Without Ozpin there, he felt almost helpless.

But he said what he wanted to—what he needed to. That if things came down to it, he wanted to go with Ozpin.

And for as long as the questioning felt, it also felt tragically short. For before long, they were out of the office, and Oscar honestly couldn’t say if he managed to sway the judge.

He had to have, right? He was fifteen, and Ozpin said that counted for something in regards to these sorts of cases. That he had more of a say in this situation than a child who was say, two to five, like Ozpin’s daughters had been. 

And so now came the time of a decision. 

The silence was intense, and Oscar felt drained. A decision would be made. Today. Right now.

Oscar sent a nod and a smile in Ozpin’s direction. He’d said what he’d needed to say. That should solidify it, right? That they could put all of this behind them. That they could go home and never have to worry about this ever again.

But Oscar still couldn’t shake the fact that Salem was still smiling.

That, no matter what he said or insisted, that the judge’s eyes had remained hard and distant during their entire meeting. Like he couldn’t be swayed. Like there was already an answer in his mind.

So while he felt some confidence, Oscar couldn’t shake the fear. Couldn’t shake Salem’s smile.

He hadn’t understood most of what happened. He just felt a cold dread in the air. He felt the answer ringing all around him. And the silence was like an eternal drumroll.

 _Say it, please. Say it so I can go home. So this can be over,_ Oscar pleaded.

He looked back at Ozpin, and the man once again met his gaze. And maybe he felt it, too, in that moment that stretched on for far too long. He felt the electricity in the air. 

His pale face made it seem like he was in a nightmare that was familiar to him.

Like he had been here before.

And Oscar took a step towards him, ready for the outcome. Ready to go to Ozpin and go back home—maybe they’d make cookies to celebrate. Maybe they could laugh about this by the fireplace when this was all over.

But then the judge spoke, and Oscar almost couldn’t hear it. It sounded like he was underwater, until the reverb finally wriggled its way into Oscar’s brain and he was able to process it.

Like ice, the dread settled into his chest.

Ozpin’s mouth moved and Oscar saw it shape his name, but he couldn’t hear it. The ringing in his ears was too loud. As if, when the judge had spoken, a thunderclap had gone off and deafened him.

Ozpin took a step towards him, a desperation on his face, and Oscar felt like running to him, shaking his head. He glanced over at Salem, who was already standing, that smile stretching even further across her cheeks, cutting across them like a bleeding wound.

Oscar felt his blood boil. 

He hated her. He hated her, hated her, hated her—

And he refused! He refused to accept that answer. Hot tears made their way down his face, and he jolted forward, running instead towards Ozpin.

_No! Please!_

And maybe Ozpin had the same idea, because he jolted forward, too.

And then the sound slammed back into Oscar, and he registered Ozpin’s frantic shouting as two guards from the back flocked to him, ripping him back. “LET ME GO! _LET ME GO!_ PLEASE _!_ All she’ll do is hurt him! He won’t be safe with her, please! OSCAR! _OSCAR_!”

“OZ!” Oscar screamed back, for the unfairness of it all—this was wrong! They both knew this was _wrong_! “LET HIM GO!”

Somehow, someway, he managed to rip away from the guards just at the exact moment Oz stepped on the foot of one of the guards on his end and bolted forward. 

They met in the middle of the courtroom, and _clung_ to each other. Nails digging into the fabrics of their clothes. Oz cries echoed in his ears, “I love you.” Oz sobbed against him. “ _I love you. I love you…_ ”

Hands were on him, pulling him away, and Oscar fought back against the guards as they dragged him towards Salem.

“NO!” He shrieked, kicking and wailing. He looked over his shoulder at Ozpin, “PLEASE! I WANT TO GO WITH HIM! I WANT TO GO WITH MY DAD! LET ME GO! LET ME _GO_!”

“PLEASE!” Ozpin turned violently, his tears flying into the air, and screamed at the judge, still struggling against the guards. “ _PLEASE_! He’s my son! I love him so much! OSCAR!”

But there was nothing left to figure out—everything was spiraling! And what were they going to do? What could they do? They were being dragged away from each other, and the life Oscar had made for himself was being killed right before his eyes. His entire world was crumbling, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

The anguish on Oz’s face, it was enough for Oscar to nearly collapse with pain. Because he knew this was going to kill him. The thought of Oz alone, in his cabin, shutting himself off from the world, being absolutely broken over this. It filled Oscar with such a deep seeded fear. Because Oscar knew that he needed Ozpin, he needed him so much, but Oz needed him too. 

They needed each other and now what were they to do?

“OSCAR!” 

“DAD!” Oscar tried to force his voice through his tight throat, trying to get it to cut through his sobbing, “I LOVE—!”

But he didn’t get the chance to say it before the doors slammed shut in his face. 

* * *

When the doors closed, sealing away Oscar’s face from sight, Ozpin felt like a part of his soul left him. He didn’t have the energy to fight any longer. He was dragged out of the courtroom and finally released by the guards. Everything was a blur, and the world swayed like he was on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

He walked out of the building, barely registering that Glynda had been waiting for him. Barely registering her trying to talk to him, trying to get him to snap out of it.

He couldn’t register that he was barely sucking in a breath of air, taking in shallow, quick breaths.

_It’s over, it’s over, it’s over, it’s over—_

At some point, his legs gave out underneath him and he caught himself against a nearby wall, slowly slipping down so he could sit.

His head was ringing. What now? Dear gods, what _now_ ? What could he do—what should he do? Oscar was with Salem, and Salem would hurt him—she’d _destroy_ him.

Ozpin put his head in his hands, curling into himself.

A weight pressed down over his shoulders, one he didn’t entirely feel. His whole body felt cold. And no matter how hard he was trembling, he couldn’t seem to get warm.

He couldn’t _breathe_. He couldn’t think, the ringing in his head and the thundering of his heart was so intense.

And he didn’t know how long he sat there, spiraling down, down, _down_ into the abyss that was his fear and anxiety. Long enough for his legs to go numb and for the sun to start going down. 

When he opened his eyes again, he felt heavy, like he was made of concrete. He lifted his head, just barely. Enough to make out that they were still outside of the court building. Enough to register the sunset and know that Oscar would be long gone by this point.

Enough to register that the weight across his shoulders belonged to someone at his side, with their arms wrapped around him.

“Glynda,” he breathed, resting his head against hers. “He’s gone— _m_ _y baby_ _boy_...“

“I know, _I know…_ ” she whispered back, tears in her eyes. She shuffled upward, lifting his heavy head so their eyes could meet. “Are you okay?”

Even in his tired brain, Ozpin knew that was a silly question. And yet all he could do was stare at her, unable to answer it.

“Come on,” she said, starting to stand and trying to pull him up with her. “Come on, we need to get you home.” But Ozpin couldn’t stand. He wanted to sit there on the cement forever and never move again. “Please, Ozpin. You need to stand up.”

“Why?” he asked wearily.

What was the point? 

_His son was gone..._

“Because you won’t be able to do any good just sitting out here.”

“And what _good_ will I be able to do sitting somewhere else?” he mumbled. “I can’t do anything _right_ , Glynda. If I ever manage to do something good, she’ll come and take that away.”

“So that’s it?” Glynda asked incredulously. “You give up? You give up on everything? On _Oscar_?”

Ozpin looked away. What could he possibly say? What was there left to do? The court decision was final. Oscar was gone. He was with Salem. What hope did he have? Ozpin had done everything he could to escape her. And Oscar, being a fifteen year old boy, didn’t stand a chance.

Glynda shook him. “Come on, Oz! You were _in_ there! I know you smelled the bullshit, too! There’s no damn way that she won that case without pulling something dirty! This is _Salem_ we’re talking about!”

“You’re right,” he cut in, “This _is_ Salem. And no matter what game she’s playing, she always _wins—_ ”

“Because she’s a fucking cheater!” Glynda snapped, in a tone Ozpin had never heard from her before. “And I know you’re not a quitter, Ozpin, so I need you to stand up and help me figure out how she did it!”

Ozpin looked at her outstretched hand, at the determination on her face. He didn’t have an inkling of hope that they could win against Salem. But Glynda’s face was so set in that moment that he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of energy flow though him, enough to get his legs underneath him at least.

Glynda kept one of his arms around her shoulders, as though afraid he might fall over. And maybe that was the best idea, because Ozpin still felt a shakiness in his knees. He was sure that if Glynda wasn’t there, he might very well have fallen over.

She brought him to Gracie and helped him to the passenger side.

“You have your keys?”

Ozpin nodded and reached into his pocket to hand his keys to her. Glynda unlocked the doors and helped him inside, then got into the driver’s seat next to him. 

They didn’t say anything on the car ride back to Beacon, the silence as heavy as Ozpin felt. He spent the time staring out the window and not really registering the places they were passing by. Nor the tears slipping down his cheeks. His eyes felt hot and his heart was beating tragically slowly in his chest now, where it had been racing before. As though even it was far too tired and worn. He’d heard of people dying of heartbreak before, and he wouldn’t be surprised if this was what that felt like.

At last, Glynda parked and they walked through the Forever Falls back to his cabin. She went slowly for him, allowing him to pause at the tree he and Oscar had climbed when they’d learned about their relation to one another. He was sure Glynda didn’t understand why he was so emotional over a tree, but she let him stand there for as long as he needed to. 

At last, he started moving again, dragging his feet behind her, and they made their way up the steps to his home. Glynda paused to hold his hands in hers.

“Get some rest. I’ll come by tomorrow morning to check on you, okay?” 

Ozpin nodded and Glynda leaned forward, pecking him on the lips. He didn’t feel the same joy and happiness as he had the first time they had kissed. Although, it did warm a small part of his heart and he returned it as best as he could, which wasn’t much given his state of mind.

He opened the door and went inside. He didn’t even bother pulling off his shoes. He just wanted to lie down somewhere and not move for as long as time permitted. It would usually be the time he and Oscar would eat dinner, but he wasn’t hungry. Or thirsty. Or really anything.

He felt numb and empty down to his core.

Ozpin went over to the bookshelves for no particular reason, staring at his extensive Fairy Tale section, most of them new, as he’d bought them for his and Oscar’s discussions.

Movement caught his eye and he saw himself in the mirror hanging on the wall nearby. He looked as dead as he felt. The only thing proving himself to still be alive were the tears that wouldn’t seem to stop. 

A hint of orange caught his eye and Ozpin jerked his head around, some part of his heart seizing.

_Oscar?_

He glanced around until his eyes caught on the orange bear sitting on the mantle, right next to the picture of his daughters. It was the bear Oscar had won for him at the festival. 

Ozpin went over to _Monsieur_ Lucky, gently picking the bear up, like it might shatter in his hands. He ran his thumbs across the soft fur and smoothed the bowtie over its neck. Like a child, he held it close to his chest, like it was his lifeline, like everything might be alright if he just held onto it for a while.

It was for good luck after all…

Ozpin made his way up the stairs, deciding to head to his room. But he had to stop at the guest bedroom. To look into it and see the familiar quilts and books. His eyes caught on the reading tablet he’d gotten for Oscar’s birthday. The one he tragically hadn’t been able to take with him before he was pulled away.

Ozpin went over to the bed and sat down, still holding the teddy bear from the festival. He felt small and helpless, and he had the feeling that this was exactly how Oscar had felt the first day he’d arrived at Beacon.

And that thought was enough to send him crumbling.

Ozpin released a deep sob and slumped backward, crying into the quilts that belonged to Oscar, pulling his legs up to his chest and holding the bear in a death grip. He was surrounded by things that belonged to his boy that had been ripped from him—his own son, who stole the other half of his heart the moment they were ripped from each other.

The pain and anger he suddenly felt was immeasurable. His mind burned at the very thought of Salem, that _Salem_ had done this. 

It was enough to tear a wail from his throat, to pierce the silence of his cabin with the cry of a father who’d lost everything for the second time in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PhantomDragon321--The court scene where Oscar and Ozpin are being ripped away from each other was THE scene that sparked us wanting to write this story in the first place!! I can only hope we did it some justice, as painful as it was to write <3
> 
> TheAngelofFate— YES IT WAS! It was the very scene we’ve been working towards for the last couple months! And I think we achieved our goal in angst and heartbreak, I think! 
> 
> Feedback in the comments down below are always welcome and appreciated and we will see you all in the next one!


	12. The Mother

After the court case, Oscar was practically shoved into the backseat of Salem’s car and met with nothing but contempt. The car ride back to her home all the way in Haven was spent in silence. And it was the kind of silence Oscar hated, the kind that were so deafening and ear piercing that he was sure his ears would start to bleed if it continued. 

Salem said not a word to him as they pulled up to her large home near a forest of trees leading up to a cobblestone pathway. She said not a single syllable as they entered the house. It was grand and beautiful, but he couldn’t quite take it in or marvel at it. His eyes refused to leave Salem’s back, and he couldn’t seem to distract himself from the pain in his wrist as she pulled him down the hallway.

A part of him wanted to scream and shout, to swear at her and break away, run out into the forest surrounding her home and try to find his way back to Ozpin. Yet he had the sense that Salem wouldn’t stop searching for him. And if he went to Ozpin after the entire court case, he feared he would only get him in trouble. Ozpin might very well be arrested for kidnapping.

So Oscar remained silent and compliant. Partly because he had nowhere to run but also because he didn’t know how Salem would react if he tried. The scars on Ozpin blared in his head. Would she hurt him in the same ways she hurt him? Oscar tensed at the thought, biting down on his tongue and trying to make himself small and invisible in spite of Salem’s tight grip and awareness of him.

Suddenly, they were at a door somewhere at the back of the house. She opened it and led him down a flight of dusty stairs. At last, Salem released him, shoving him into the dark basement. She said nothing, only stared at him while he started back.

A silent smirk crossed her face, as if she knew he wouldn’t try anything, like she had read his thoughts as they’d walked here. She ascended the stairs and headed back to the door.

And _locked_ it. 

Oscar could do nothing else but look around the place that was to be his “ _room_." Of course it paled towards the room he had in Oz’s cabin for the short time he stayed there. It even paled in comparison then the dorm room he had at Beacon. Those rooms had been lived with warmth and life and love, rooms that were always cleaned no matter how many different students came about and left. Like someone still cared for them. 

But this place? 

This place that was without light, with no windows. Black and brown mold dotted the walls in clusters, evident of water damage seeping through the pipes, which made it clear that it had not been cleaned or cared for in a long time. Not only that, but it was also cold. The icy air seeped into him, and he couldn’t help but tighten his arms around himself and shiver.

And given Oscar’s position, Salem must have found it fitting.

With nowhere else to go, and nothing else to do, he sat next to the boiler to keep warm. He hugged his legs close to himself and rested his chin on top of them. 

_What now?_

He didn’t exactly know. He wasn’t entirely sure what Salem had planned for him. Was there just… _this_? The basement? Was this his punishment for being born? Oscar felt like he could handle this. Right?

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness by now. He looked around, eyeing the empty room. There were strangely undusted places on the floor, like something used to be there—likely boxes of whatever Salem had likely put in storage down here— but they appeared to have been moved elsewhere, to make space for, well, _him_.

Likely so he also couldn’t rummage around or toy with anything as a pastime.

The basement was completely empty. Nothing but him and the boiler, of which, suddenly, stopped humming and giving off warmth.

Oscar felt his shoulders deflate as the cold immediately started to sink again again. 

He looked up and felt like he could see Salem’s pleased face through the ceiling. He rolled his eyes with a scoff. There were numerous curse words he wanted to say that he knew Ozpin wouldn’t approve of, so he kept them quietly in his head.

He ran a hand along the ground, picking up a stray pebble that had somehow wound up down here. He tossed it against the wall across from him and it bounced back, winding up back at his feet. He tossed it again and shifted to grab it when it landed a little further away.

Immediately growing bored with that game, Oscar slouched further down against the boiler with a sigh, with his heart aching and his eyes stinging. 

Seriously. Now what?

* * *

Primrose watched from the window when her mother came home, bringing a boy with her into the house. She hadn’t exactly been waiting for this moment—the only reason she knew she had a brother was because she overheard her mother talking to some lawyer about it.

And she only knew he was a lawyer because he was in a suit and because he kept mentioning something about a court case. Primrose didn’t think much of it—she was about to dismiss the whole thing as being stupid and boring—until he started talking about custody and ‘ _the boy’_.

Now Primrose didn’t exactly care for legal talk. She was sixteen and had better things to be doing than listen to her mother prattle on about weird clauses and loopholes. But talks about custody and some weird boy? Well, that was enough for her to rip her mind away from teenage drama and grades and start getting suspicious.

So she hung around outside the study, trying to look inconspicuous as she sat on the couch just outside of it, lounging around with a book and pretending to not be listening in.

Blah, blah, blah, _legal jargon_. Blah blah blah—

 _Mr. Ozpin_?

Primrose pursed her lips. She knew not to ever say that name around her mother. The supposed name of her father, who she divorced when Primrose was only two. While she couldn’t remember anything about him, she was aware of her mother’s hatred, and well-aware that _Ozpin_ was no good. Not at all.

The name made Primrose’s eyes widen. She scooted closer to the door. 

_Yadda, yadda, stop talking about weird legal stuff! What_ about _Ozpin?!_

Another name. Some Oscar guy? But Primrose didn’t care about whoever Oscar was. She wanted to know why that horrible man Ozpin was involved in this.

She didn’t get to hear much else before she heard Salem and the lawyer say their goodbyes. She jerked over to the furthest end of the couch and flopped down in a lazy pose, attempting to look natural as she could, holding her book up to her nose.

Her mother walked out after the lawyer, immediately catching sight of her. As soon as the lawyer was out the door, Primrose finally lifted her eyes up from the words she wasn’t paying attention to.

“Who’s the weird dude in the suit?” 

Salem glanced over her, a hint of a smile on her face. She said in a nonchalant tone, “Nobody, really. A lawyer.”

Primrose hummed like that didn’t interest her. “You’re already a lawyer though, mom. Why do _you_ need one yourself? Does he work for you or something?”

Salem shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. Did you complete your homework?”

Primrose lifted her book. “Doin’ it right now.”

Salem nodded approvingly. But she still seemed weirdly distracted by something, because she didn’t press on the matter, whereas she’d typically start going into Mom Mode and start asking what her homework was on, and what she’s learned, and whether or not she liked the subject or just how her day was in general. 

And Primrose’s suspicions only grew as the days went on, then the weeks. Salem was gone more and more often for longer periods of time. And the lawyer kept coming over more and more often, too.

Eventually, Primrose decided to give in and just ask.

“Mom. Are you being sued?”

In one of the few rare times, Primrose caught her mother off guard. She made a strange noise and blinked a few times. “Am I what?”

Prim took her mother’s strange tone as confirmation, “Oh my god, you’re being sued aren’t you—?”

“No.” Salem put her hands on her hips. “And even if I _was_ , you shouldn’t be worrying about it—”

“For how much? Wait. Are _you_ suing someone?”

Salem looked towards the ceiling for a second, “Oh. Now _that_ would have been a fun idea. But no. I’m not suing anyone. Unfortunately. Though now I _wonder_...”

“Mooooooooom,” Primrose groaned. “Come on. I’m not dumb. You can tell me! Promise I won’t tell!”

Salem heaved a heavy sigh. “It’s really quite complicated.”

“Are you winning?”

“Oh, hush, Prim, you know I always _win._ ” Salem smirked, looking pleased with herself.

“Right…” Primrose prompted, leaning in. “I just heard you two talking, that’s all. I just… well… I might have heard something about a custody thing...?”

Salem sent her a look. “I could have _sworn_ I taught you that eavesdropping was rude.”

“You did. But you’ve also always told me to do things that I think would benefit myself. And I found the information I received from eavesdropping on you very beneficial.”

Salem put a finger to her chin and gave her an adoring smile. “I _did_ say that, didn’t I? Oh, very well. Yes, it’s a custody battle.”

“Over...?”

Her mother turned her body fully towards her and looked her in the eye, a seriousness on her face. “Do you remember what I told you about your father?”

“Yeah? That he was an assh— I mean!” Primrose corrected herself. “He was a very _contemptible_ man.”

“Clever save, dear.” Salem nodded approvingly. “And it’s _very_ true. He was a difficult man. Stubborn. He wanted his freedom more than he wanted his own children. As we established before, I never lose a court case. And while I technically didn’t _lose,_ that man did take something from me in the divorce that I couldn’t procure.”

Primrose watched her mother’s face grow dark. She looked away and took a few steps down the hallway. Primrose followed after.

“What did he take?”

Salem didn’t look back. She kept her eyes ahead, a sharp look in her eyes that she got when she exited Mom Mode and went into Lawyer Mode. “He took your brother from me.”

Primrose’s heart skipped a beat. “Wait!” She dashed around to block her mother’s path. “We have a _brother_?! But I thought—well—how come you never said anything?!”

“I figured it would only hurt you. The last thing I wanted was for the four of you to go searching for the poor boy. There was a chance you might run into that man. And then what would you do? He could very well have hurt you.”

“But… How come you’re fighting for him now? Why not back then?”

A look crossed her mother’s face, then Salem shook her head with a gentle smile. “I only recently just discovered his… _situation_. We’ve talked about the kind of work that I do. Civil law. Do you remember? The worst kinds of cases I work on?” 

Primrose’s eyes shot wide. “He got hurt?! By—?!” She couldn’t even utter his name. Especially not to her mother. She was probably so torn up inside, knowing what was happening to her own son. Because of him— _that man_ — who she so dearly wished _wasn’t_ her father. But the truth of the matter was that he was, and she couldn’t change that. Nor could she completely ebb away the pain her mother was likely going through because of him. “Oh...”

“Exactly.” Salem cupped her face. “I refrained from telling you until now because I wasn’t sure how you would react. But when he gets here, he may very well want to be left alone. And maybe that’s for the best for now. We have no idea what kind of boy he’s become after being raised by such a terrible man for so long. Do you understand, Prim?”

Prim nodded. She didn’t want to overwhelm him—the boy that was supposedly her brother. A brother she didn’t even know about. Who her mother probably never talked about because she couldn’t bear to live with having lost one of her own children. Primrose tried to imagine a life without Iclyn or Idalia or Orla. She had always known her sisters. What would it have been like to be raised with a brother, too?

So when she saw the car pull up on the day her mother was supposed to bring ‘ _Oscar_ ’ home, Primrose kept her distance, her face pressed against the glass to try to get a better look at him.

She didn’t get to catch much. Just a fluff of dark brown hair and tanned skin.

She hesitated there at the window until he was inside. Then she carefully snuck down from her room and went to the living room. Seeing nobody, she tiptoed over to the kitchen.

Where did they go?

“Primrose.”

The sound of her mother’s voice startled her. She whipped around, finding her standing in the archway. “Mom! Um… how is he? Is he nice? Can I meet him?”

Salem sighed and shook her head. She went to the fridge and started fixing herself a glass of water. “I’m afraid he doesn’t want to come out of his room right now. He has been through a lot.”

“Oh… Is he in the downstairs guest bedroom?”

Salem stopped with her glass raised halfway to her mouth. “Well… I wasn’t going to say anything. Actually, Prim, he ran off and locked himself in the basement before I could stop him. He said he doesn’t want to be around anyone right now.”

“In the basement?” Primrose tilted her head. “Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. This must all be overwhelming for him. I’ll try to talk to him again in a few minutes to see if I can get him to come out. I don’t want you to go down there, though. He seemed...” Salem waved a hand through the air. “Rather out of sorts. I’d almost say violent.”

Primrose winced. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Oh, no, but I did have to dodge a swipe. He very nearly pushed me down the stairs! Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine. I just need you to keep your distance until he calms down, okay?”

“I feel bad for him,” Primrose said sadly. “He’s probably like that because of that man. Because he used to hurt him, so he thinks you’re going to hurt him, too.”

“Heavens, you’re probably right…” Salem shook her head. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Can you tell me when he comes out? Or, well… if he calms down? I’d like to say hi to him. Make him feel more at home.” 

“That’s very kind of you, Prim.” Salem smiled. “I’m sure he would like that.”

Prim went back up to her room, pausing to glance at the basement where the boy had locked himself in. She felt sorry for him, and she wanted to be the best sister possible, since he probably didn’t have anyone else with him other than that horrible man.

She waited all night, waiting to hear word from her mother. They’d long since stopped doing family dinners since Orla moved off to college, so Primrose usually just ate up in her room.

She went downstairs to fix herself dinner, pausing once more to glance at the basement door. Still no word from the boy. Would he be hungry by now? Maybe Salem already tried. It would be wise to leave this to her mother. She was always good with people.

She ate her dinner while finishing a paper for school. She wondered if maybe she should call any of her sisters to tell them about the boy, but she didn’t really have anything to say. And they probably already knew everything from Mom. Maybe she’d call them after her and Oscar got to know each other.

Maybe then they could both call them! That could be fun. There was no way he was all-bad. He was just hurt and misguided. But if anyone could help him, it would be Mom. So, for now, it was probably best that she waited on that call.

By the time she finished dinner, it was sunset. Primrose went over to the window and opened it, taking a picture of it on her phone. She’d always liked sunsets.

When she was done marveling at it, she went back to work on her essay for a few more hours, finished it, and then went to bed.

That morning, she got up early. She had to get ready for school. She ate breakfast, her eyes on the basement door the entire time. Did he ever come out?

Her thoughts were on the boy the entire day, through every class period. She couldn’t even eat lunch because she was so distracted by her thoughts. 

She got home late afternoon. The house was horribly quiet. Still no word from her mysterious brother.

A part of her wanted to go over and try to talk to him. But there was that warning her mother had given her. That he was violent and angry. But it was also possible that he had calmed down by now.

She placed her bag on the couch and crossed the living room. She approached the closed door, her fingers hovering just over the wood.

Should she knock or…?

Before she could do anything, the door opened and she jumped back when she found her mother there.

“Mom!”

“Primrose,” Salem said in a steady tone. “What are you doing? I thought I told you to stay away until things were settled.”

“Did you get to talk to him?” Primrose asked hopefully.

“No. He didn’t want to talk. I did bring him something to eat, though.” Salem placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll warm up eventually. Come on. Why don’t I help you with homework? You did mention you were having trouble in Government class.”

“Yeah…” Primrose tried not to look too disappointed about Oscar. Maybe his situation was worse than she thought.

Another day passed. Then another.

Primrose was starting to get more and more worried. He just really didn’t want to come out. Was he that afraid? Did he hate them? What had their father told them about Salem and her and their sisters? Her mother was trying so hard. She’d taken off so many days of work just to be here for him. Yet he didn’t even seem to care.

Finally, Primrose couldn’t take it anymore. For the first time that week, her mother’s car was gone when Primrose got home from school. Maybe she finally headed off to work or went out to get something. Primrose hesitantly went to the basement door, her hand hovering once more over the wood.

With a deep breath, she knocked.

* * *

Oscar jumped at the sound of a knock. He stood up from his spot on the floor, his legs aching as he rose. His back was in angry knots from sleeping on the ground every night for… well, however long he had been here. He wasn’t sure.

Time passed slowly. Or maybe it passed quickly.

Or maybe it didn’t pass at all.

When had he last eaten, anyway? Was Salem going to come down just to leave him tasteless white rice again? Oscar felt a great weariness inside of him.

He was so. So. Sick. Of white rice. If he ever had to eat another bowl of it, he was sure he would scream.

But on the other hand, his stomach was already screaming. So maybe rice didn’t sound that bad right now. And besides, at least when Salem came down, he got to see another human face. Even though she never said anything. Their communication was strictly through glares and silence and rice.

“Hello?” a voice called.

Ah, right. Someone was still knocking at the door. Oscar shook his head, his thoughts all scattered, both racing and moving through sludge at the same time.

He distinctly recognized the voice not belonging to Salem though. So maybe that was progress? His ears were almost giddy to hear a new voice. Was that possible? Could ears be happy? Maybe he was finally starting to hallucinate. That seemed possible. How long did it take people to start breaking in isolation?

Surely not as long as he had been there, right? Right. How long had it been again?

Slowly, the door above him cracked open, letting in a harsh beam of light, which was as interesting as it was painful. Salem never came in during whatever-hour-this-was. Noon? Maybe this was a very mean morning light. A very horrible, bright sunrise.

He squinted through the light and made out the shape of a girl that was not much older than him. Her eyes were a light olive green and her skin was tanned. Her hair was a light blonde that was tied together with a green ribbon. 

“Um…” she hesitated and Oscar watched her in shocked awe. She appeared to do the same to him. She looked at him for a moment, her eyes widening a fraction of a second, like she wasn’t expecting him to really be there. She looked uncomfortable standing there in the doorway, “U-Um—” She stood there, cautiously. “Hi. I don’t know if Mom said anything about me?”

Oscar’s face split into a wide smile. He couldn’t help but laugh. Someone new! Someone who wasn’t Salem! Someone who knew he was down here!

His laughter seemed to startle the girl, because she backed up, looking slightly weirded out. Oscar looked at her, not really sure what to make of her, “Hi!” he said a bit too loudly, spooking himself with his own voice. “You’re Primrose, aren’t you? I do know you.” He nodded rapidly. “The ribbon. I saw it! In the picture!”

She gave him a hesitant smile, “Y-Yeah! Did mother show you a picture?”

Oscar swallowed, his mood shifting entirely, his heart hurting to have to think about Oz, “I just know.”

Primrose, then seemed to notice the clothes he was wearing, “Um, sorry. Why are you wearing such big clothes?”

Oscar looked at the garments he had on and sighed. 

Salem had only given him one pair of clothes to change into. They were nothing more than tattered, old and far too big for him. 

A lump had formed in his throat when he saw them, because the clothing symbolized exactly what Salem saw him as. Not as her son, whom a mother was supposed to adore with all her heart but useless and unloved, that didn’t deserve to be taken care of.

A ribbon like Primrose’s might have been nice, to add some sort of color and life into what he now had to call his ‘room’. Maybe that was weird to think about.

By the time he had dressed those—well, however long ago it was—Salem had returned and her eyes immediately honed in on him. His body had gone rigid instantly. He’d hated her as much as he feared her—well, truthfully, he still did. But there was a weariness now whenever he saw her. Just like when he looked at the bowls of white rice in her hands.

Salem had put her hands behind her back and observed him for a moment. Then her eyes trailed down to his wrist and Oscar had felt the bottom of his stomach drop. She’d glared daggers at the bangle there., then jerked towards him, managing to grab a hold of his wrist and yank his arm forward, trying to pry it off. Oscar had fought back, of course.

He’d grabbed the bangle and held on, “ _Let go_!”

Salem let out a snarled that Oscar didn’t think was human, but he held on regardless, his grip unwavering, determined to hold onto the only thing he had of Oz, until he felt a _pain_ slam through his stomach, he gasped for air, but oxygen eluded him in that moment as tears of pain formed in his eyes. His body reacted on instinct, and his grip on the bangle loosened enough for Salem to rip it away. 

He collapsed to the ground in a heap of agony after that. Gasping for air and sputtering out spit and bile that had risen to his throat, an arm wrapped around his stomach, applying pressure in a vain hope to dilute the pain. 

Once the haze cleared long enough to see straight, he saw Salem looking down upon him, a smile on her face.

She’d _enjoyed_ it. 

Salem had held the bangle in her hand and twirled it in her finger, then bent down and firmly grasped the skin of his cheek in between her fingers and _squeezed_. “There. _Now_ you look like you should.” She’d placed her hands behind her back as she stood up.

Then she turned and walked away. 

Despite the pain he was in, Oscar managed to move just enough to grasp her dress, he curled his fingers and dug into the fabric, and he wished that his voice was more intimidating, he wished he had the strength to look her in the eye and demand that he get his bangle back, but all that came out of his mouth was a weak, “ _Please…_ Please, let me keep it.”

His breathing was hoarse, he was shaking, as he lay on the ground, pleading for Salem to give him the one and only thing he had of his old life. 

But Salem only jerked out of his grasp and left, shutting the door behind her. 

“She took mine from me,” he said without thinking.

“What?” His attention came back to the girl before him, pulled away from the memory that left a hole in his heart. “You had... a ribbon?”

“Oh, no,” Oscar said sadly, realizing he wasn’t making much sense. “I had a bangle. On my wrist. She took it from me.”

“Who?”

“Salem.” Oscar’s heart pounded in his chest at her name. He glanced around nervously. “Is she here? Is she trapping you down here, too?!” 

“What? No. That’s my mom. You must be confused. You can leave whenever you want to.”

“No. You don’t understand. I can’t,” Oscar whispered, stepping back until his back was against the boiler that no longer functioned or kept him warm. “There’s nowhere for me to go. And she locks the door. But even if I do go back, Ozpin will get in trouble—!”

“ _Ozpin_?” The girl’s face grew hard. “ _What about_ Ozpin?”

“She took me away from him.”

“Mom? Yeah, she’s trying to help you. So you don’t have to be with him anymore—you don’t have to get hurt anymore—”

“Hurt? By who? _Ozpin_?” Oscar shook his head, growing defensive. “No! He would never, ever hurt me!”

Primrose’s face softened. “I know it can be hard to see that he was hurting you. You grew up with him and stuff, so he's all you've ever known. But… you don’t ever have to go through that anymore. We can be a family here!” Her expression grew hopeful.

“I don't want her to be my mother!” Oscar spat. “She is _not_ my mother!”

Now it seemed to be the girl’s turn to be defensive. “Mom is trying her best. I know you don’t see that, but it’s really mean to say that about her! She’s trying to give you a home—a real home here—!”

Oscar laughed in spite of himself. “A _home_?! I don’t exactly feel very at home!” He gestured around the basement.

“Well… You shouldn’t have locked yourself down here, then. You can come up whenever you want to—you’re just being mean and hurting Mom’s feelings—!”

Again, Oscar had to laugh. “Lock _myself_ down here?! Why would I ever want to lock myself down _here_ ?! Salem is the one who put me here! Sure, sometimes the door isn’t locked. She does it to tempt me into leaving. But she knows I _won’t_ . Where could I go? If I disappear, Ozpin—my _dad_ —he could be _arrested_! So I might partly be down here by choice, but I’m doing it to make sure he stays out of trouble. That’s why I’m not running out that door right now, as much as I want to! And also because I don’t know what she’ll do if I—”

His head jerked towards her, eyes widening.

“Are _you_ some kind of test?”

Primrose tilted her head at him. “What?”

Oscar felt distrust spike through him. “Will she hurt me for talking to you? What will she do? What do you want? I won’t go with you—I’m not leaving! I’m being good—I’m doing just fine down here! I won’t leave! Even though I really, really want to, so don’t tell her! Please! Or _do_ tell her! Whatever the right answer is!”

Oscar was slightly aware of how wild and insane he must look. He felt like his thoughts were zig zagging everywhere at once. Fear, distrust, uncertainty—what did Salem _want_ from him?! What was the answer?! What was he supposed to _do_?!”

“I don’t understand what you’re saying—!” Primrose said desperately. “Just… tell me what’s wrong? Maybe we can work through this? How can I help you—?”

“ _Leave._ ” Oscar said, his eyes pricking. “If this _isn’t_ a trick, then you need to leave! Before she finds out you’re down here and you get in trouble! But if it _is_ a trick, then I want nothing to do with it! So go! Please, just _go_!”

The girl looked equal parts scared and worried. She hurried back up the steps and closed the door behind him, leaving him back in total darkness.

* * *

Primrose ran up the stairs without looking back. She wasn’t sure what to make out of all of that. Maybe the boy was completely unhinged! But if that was the case, then Primrose wasn’t sure what to do. Surely getting him some kind of help would be far better than allowing him to lock himself in the basement.

Maybe Mom was already on that. She just needed to wait. Mom was smart. She probably knew how to help him. He was far worse than Primrose had ever thought possible, stuck in his own delusions. Maybe this is what Ozpin used to do to him—lock him in the basement, and now he was projecting that onto her mother.

Because Mom—she would never, ever do something like this! _Never_! So he was obviously mistaken.

Primrose rubbed her arms, feeling her skin prickle. She couldn’t imagine growing up in such a broken home. To be so touched with fear.

Primrose waited by the window for Salem to get home, to talk to her mother about what to do with Oscar and his mental health. There was something genuinely wrong with him. He seemed to think the entire house was against him. That her mother was something horrible and evil. That Ozpin—the man who’d made him this way—was good and kind.

But Primrose could see what he couldn’t clear as day. Maybe he just needed someone to help him understand the reality of his situation. That he was in a good home now, and he didn’t have to live in fear.

When her mother pulled up to the driveway, Primrose made sure she was at the door to greet her.

“Mom?”

Salem looked at her as she entered the house, a slight look of surprise on her face. “Primrose. Apologies, I had to go do something at the firm. Do you need something?”

“I know you told me not to,” Primrose said hesitantly. “But… about that… um… Oscar?”

Salem’s face morphed into shock, then quickly cooled. “Leave, did he?”

“No, that’s the problem. He’s still down there...” Primrose shook her head, “It’s just… You said not to go into the basement, but… Mom, I think there’s something wrong with him. Should we get him help? Or…”

“In what way is there something wrong?”

“Come on, Mom,” Primrose resisted sending her mother a scrutinizing stare. Had she gone mad, too? Could she not _see_ that there was something plainly wrong with Oscar? “He’s locked himself in the basement and talking gibberish! He thinks _Ozpin_ is actually some good guy—he actually wants to go _back_ to him!”

“Say all of that, did he?” Salem raised a contemplative brow. An expression crossed her face that Primrose had never seen before. Something beyond even Lawyer Mode that seemed… _sharper_. “Well, don’t worry yourself with it, dear. I’m already looking into getting him all the help he needs.” She reached out to pet her hair. “Now, why don’t we eat dinner, hm? I’m starving.”

Salem walked past her and Primrose watched her go, at a loss. Her mother didn’t really seem all that shocked or concerned with this news. She did say she was already getting him help—so maybe she already knew about Oscar’s condition?

Primrose wasn’t sure. But she was more worried now more than ever. She had a strange feeling in her chest that she couldn’t quite grasp. A distinctly _wrong_ sort of feeling.

But she let it go. After all, her mother knew what was best.

However, that didn’t stop her from insisting or inquiring about it whenever she could. Every day when she came home from school, she would look towards the basement, noting the quietness. She noted that her mother continued to not leave the house, and to stick close by. Especially by the living room. She’d usually be in her study, but recently she’d started doing paperwork at the coffee table.

Maybe she was just waiting for Oscar to come out?

Yet Primrose got the feeling that her mother’s presence was instead meant for her. She was likely worried about Primrose going down there by herself and getting hurt.

On Fridays, though, Salem had no choice but to go in to work and drop off the files she’d looked over. That left Primrose in the house alone for the afternoons.

It had been about three and a half weeks since Oscar had arrived. She wondered if he’d ever be enrolled in school. Actually, she wondered a lot of things about her… brother. The word still didn’t quite feel right… She hardly knew the boy enough to say they were family…

Primrose went to the kitchen when she arrived home that Friday, getting something to drink. She poured her juice, then went to put it back, accidentally slamming the fridge door a little too hard. Something dropped from the top and clattered to the floor.

“Whoops,” she muttered to herself. She bent down to pick up the thing that had fallen.

_What is this? A bracelet?_

Primrose started at the plastic band between her fingers. There was white lettering on the inside.

_Beacon Academy’s Festival of Colors._

Beacon Academy? Neither her nor her sisters ever went to Beacon…

Primrose furrowed her brows, remembering something.

_A green bangle?_

This was what Oscar said had been taken from him. But… she was sure he was just rambling. Why would her mother take Oscar’s bangle away from him? Surely, there had to be a good reason...

Once again, that bad feeling in her chest resurfaced. Her sense completely flew out the window as she made her way back to the living room. She glanced out the window. Her mother still wasn’t home yet.

With a deep breath, she knocked on the basement door. “O-Oscar?” she called. “It’s me, Primrose?”

There was nothing but silence beyond the door.

She opened it carefully and made her way down the stairsteps.

“Oscar?” At first, she didn’t see him, not until a flicker of a shadow caught her eye. She made out a form in the darkness. “I-is that you, Oscar?”

The shadow inched closer, until the light from the doorway pooled onto a hollow-cheeked face. He looked weirdly younger than before, but maybe that was the fatigue in his hazel eyes.

“H-hello,” she said hesitantly. “Are you… um… okay?”

He watched her mouth move like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

“I brought you this…” Primrose held out the bangle. “It’s yours, right?”

His eyes widened at the sight of the band. He nodded in a shy way. He definitely seemed to be acting strangely young, like a toddler in the presence of a stranger.

“H-here…” She reached her hand out and gently grabbed his hand, guiding the band onto a tragically thin wrist.

His hoarse voice spooked her, “H-how long?”

“How long?” she repeated.

He looked her up and down, his gaze growing suspicious. He pulled his hand back, slapping his other hand atop the band, as if afraid she would take it away again. “The day.”

“The day? Well, it’s, um, Friday? Um… three weeks since you got here.”

He parted dry lips like he wanted to say something. Instead, he went to the wall. “Mark’s off, then.”

“W-what?” Primrose followed after him, heading over to the wall.

He lifted a rock and scratched three lines into the wall.

She looked closer, then. And realized that the wall was completely covered in scratches. One section was distinctly for tally marks. The rest belonged to strange doodles. She hadn’t the slightest idea how he managed to draw in the dark.

Oscar slumped against the wall with his shoulder, resting his head against it. He reached a hand up and traced the etchings there. “Marks were off, Oz, can you believe that? Told you I counted wrong.”

Primrose stared at him in slight horror. “Are you talking to that drawing?”

“Oh, I’m being rude.” Oscar went over, grabbing her by the hand, pulling her over. “This is Ozpin. He’s my dad. He was always super nice to me. He makes the best hot chocolate. See?” He pointed to something that looked like a mug in a scribbled hand.

“You think… this drawing is your dad?” she asked gently, hesitantly.

Oscar tilted his head. “It’s _of_ my dad. I’m not _that_ nuts.” He shrugged. “Yet. Although, I could be. They say crazy people don’t know they’re crazy. I’m not crazy, am I talking crazy?”

“You’re talking… a little crazy?”

“Wait. Are _you_ real? Maybe I _am_ that crazy, then. How many fingers do you have?”

“Ten? And, um… N-no, I’m real! Promise.”

“Oh, good.” Oscar laughed. “Anyway, I needed something to entertain myself. She doesn’t know these are here. Which is always so funny because when she comes in here, she stands directly underneath that drawing over there.”

Primrose glanced up at the markings he was pointing at. It was a pair of devil horns and the words ‘ _Mistress of Evil_ ’ written by them. Other words went along with it: Wicked Incarnate. The Evil Ex. Massive Bitch. The Queen of All Things Horrible and Bad. Along with, confusingly, The Rice Queen.

“It’s the only amusement I have down here.” Oscar laughed a bubbly laugh that ended in a snort. “It’s so hard not to cackle in her face when she’s standing beneath them. But they’re all true, of course they are. You think they’re true, too, right? Trick question! Because the last time I talked to you, you still didn’t trust me—which means you wouldn’t think like I do. Which means that if you’re thinking just like me you _are_ a figment of my imagination—!”

Primrose grabbed him by the shoulders. “Please, just, calm down! You freaking out is starting to freak me out!”

Oscar stared at her hands, then looked down at the bangle around his wrist, then back to her. “Oh,” he said in a small voice. “Then… what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything. Well, I mean… I guess I want you to come up. Get some sunlight?”

Oscar looked in the direction of the open door, squinting at the sunlight pouring in. He sucked in an awed breath. “I’d love to, but…” He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Really?” A spike of anger went through her. “Even _now_ , you’re still refusing to come up? Can’t you see that you’re _killing_ yourself?!”

“I _can’t_ come up. It’s not that I don’t want to.” Oscar shook his head. “I don’t know what she’ll do to me if I do. Or you for that matter.” 

Primrose suddenly felt the bones under her hands. Saw the hollowness in his face that scared her a little. “What do you mean by that? Why do you think my mom will hurt you?” She paused again. “And… And why are you so thin? Doesn’t she leave food for you? And I thought you’d have blankets or—or extra clothes or light or… or something!”

Oscar looked around the dim basement. “No. There’s only me down here. Any _you,_ now. And Scribble Ozpin. He’s not nearly as talkative, though.”

“So you don’t have anything?” A jolt went through her. “Then what does she do when she comes down here?”

“Oh. Glares. Sometimes she brings rice and water. And then she glares some more. And I glare back. And try not to laugh, as I said.” He looked back at the scribbled devil horns. “She has smacked me a few times, though. So… that’s fun.”

He was talking nonsense! Her mother would never—!

But… Then again, she never thought her mother would leave a boy in the basement with nothing to survive off of but white rice and water. She suddenly found herself very cold. The Rice Queen comment written on the wall now suddenly made more sense, and she wished it didn't. She wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t… I don’t know what to make of all of this. I don’t think I can believe—that my mom would ever…!”

Oscar blinked at her. “Hm. Really? This all seems in-character to me. Then again, I know what she did to Ozpin.”

“My mom didn’t do anything to Ozpin! He was the one who hit her and was cruel and left us and—!” She was suddenly warmed a little bit by the hot fury in her chest. “And everything is all _his_ fault!”

Oscar laughed once more into the frigid air. “I don’t think Ozpin has a single violent bone in his entire body!” He pressed a finger against the scribbled face on the wall. “Does that _look_ like the face of someone who could ever be mean on purpose?”

Primrose squinted at the scribble through the darkness. She couldn’t make out much, besides wild hair, sunglasses, and the coffee mug. “Um… well…”

“Shh!” Oscar suddenly jerked his head up. “She’s back.”

“What?” Primrose glanced around. “How can you—?”

“The pipes shutter a small bit when someone pulls into the driveway.” Oscar jerked his head back towards her. “You need to leave before she catches you in here. Go.” He pushed her a little to get her moving. “Go!”

Some part of her didn’t want to believe that something bad would happen if Salem caught her down here. But she saw the fear on Oscar’s face and immediately flew up the stairs, gently closing the door behind her. She heard the car door close shut from outside and quickly hurried to the kitchen, returning back to her unfinished homework. 

She heard the front front door open and close, which for some reason made her tense. Salem entered the kitchen, placing her car keys down with a shocking clamor. She sighed. “This yours?” she asked, pointing to the cup on the counter.

“Oh,” Primrose nodded, trying to stop her strange shakiness. “Yeah, I forgot about it.”

“Don’t waste food, Prim.” She slid the glass of juice over to her. “How was school?”

“Fine. Not very interesting…”

“Mmh.” Salem leaned against the counter, shuffling through the files in her arms.

“Uhm. Mom?”

“Yes, Prim?” she asked distractedly. “Apologies, I may be a bit distracted. We have a few new clients that I need to—”

“It’s about Oscar.”

Salem froze. She tore her gaze away from the files. “What about him?”

“I think maybe I could help you out by cooking for him. If you don’t mind. I know you’re super busy, so…”

“That’s kind of you, Prim. But really. I need no assistance with that.”

“Maybe I can make him something. I’ve always been good at sewing. Maybe I could sew him a blanket. I’m just trying to make things more comfortable for him, since he doesn’t want to leave the basement. And I bet it probably gets cold down there.”

“There’s no need for that. I’m sure he knows how to stay plenty warm.”

Primrose stared at her mother directly. “I insist. It’s not a big deal.”

“Again, he’s probably just fine—”

“In the _basement_? Come on, Mom. Don’t worry about it. I can help.”

Salem was getting a look on her face. The look that wasn’t either her Lawyer face or her Mom face. The look she got whenever her father was brought up in conversation. “I’d prefer you let _me_ handle this, Prim.”

“I think I might give him the blanket I have while I work on his.” Primrose got up from her seat. “You can bring it down to him if you want. I’ll go get it. We can give it to him right now. Actually, maybe we can bring him snacks. Do you think he likes gram crackers?”

“ _Prim—_!” Salem snatched her arm and Primrose turned to her, bewildered. 

Primrose hummed innocently. “Yeah?”

Salem caught herself. She cooled her expression and released her hold. “I think it would be best to leave the boy be until he wants to come out on his own, yes?”

Primrose hummed again, glancing away and pretending to think. “You know. I bet he might like rice.” She met Salem’s gaze again, gouging her reaction.

Salem’s face and tone held still. “Possibly.”

“Can I ask you something, Mom?”

“What?”

“Did you used to treat Dad like this, too?”

And immediately the rage was there. A rage Primrose had never seen from her mother before. The hand that had been grasping her wrist suddenly snapped up and flew through the air.

Primrose didn’t even get to catch a blur of it before her cheek was stinging. The smack seemed to reverberate through the kitchen. She gingerly raised a hand to her face, blinking tears out of her vision.

“I am still your _mother_ , Primrose. So you’d better watch your tongue,” she hissed.

“You’re _his_ mother, too,” Primrose said between catching breaths. “Why are you treating him like this?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Then why don’t I go open the door to the basement right now?!”

“You won’t touch that door again, so help me!” Salem snarled. “There will be _consequences_ , Primrose!”

Primrose shook her head, pulling away and running out of the kitchen.

“PRIMROSE!” Her mother screamed after her. “PRIM!”

Primrose ran upstairs to her room, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t know how to process all of this. Luckily, she didn’t hear Salem coming up after her. She locked the door anyway, sitting down on the carpet of her room and putting her head in her hands.

A wet sob escaped her.

Oscar was right. Dear gods, Oscar was right…

Which begged the question: what other things had her mother lied about over the years?

* * *

Salem stared after her daughter, resisting the urge to smash something. She took one furious, heaving breath at a time, trying to calm herself before she did something rash.

But she got the feeling that she was well beyond sense right now. She paced across the carpet, back and forth in front of the basement door. She should have gotten rid of that child the second she had him. She could have made the gas pipes leak. She could have made it look like an accident.

That vile child. That insidious boy!

Every time she went down there, she had to stare at him in disgust. He looked at her with those ugly hazel eyes—the eyes of her father! That was what he was! The hideous remembrance of a man she hated more than she hated even _Ozpin_! 

Salem clenched her shaking hands, her blood boiling. She hissed between her teeth, stomping a foot on the ground, stopping her pacing abruptly.

She couldn’t stand for this. Couldn’t stand that boy—the thought that anyone could care for him at all! They couldn’t see the look in those eyes! She’d be doing both herself and the world a favor, getting rid of him!

She could only see the two men she hated the most in him. Since the day he was born, he was a disgusting mark on her soul. Her daughters—they had been splendid and perfect.

But on that day fifteen years ago, she had given birth to a ghoul. Something to haunt her for the rest of her life. She couldn’t stand him. Couldn’t _look_ at him without wanting to abandon the child on a street corner somewhere and go far, far away. Or to drop him from her arms onto the floor.

Adoption wasn’t as easy, but it kept the police from snooping in on her life. Sure, she could have given him to Ozpin, but she didn’t want to give him the luxury. She wanted him to have nothing. He _deserved_ nothing!

He had been the new shiny pair of shackles her father had used to keep her locked in. Ozpin had been _suffocating_ . Always _there_ . Always trying _so hard_ to pretend to be anything beyond a walking, talking jail cell! It was _maddening_!

So Salem was glad to rip him apart. She was glad to get him off her back. As soon as her father was dead and she was divorced, she’d never felt more alive! She was free! 

Free, free, _free_!

But then she had to see his ugly face again. No, she had to see both his _and_ that boy’s ugly faces at once inside of that damnable café. And when she saw them together, growing all defensive and protective of one another, she felt the bile in her stomach _burn_.

She needed them to perish. She wanted them both to fall. And what better way than to rip them apart? She knew Ozpin was likely a blithering mess right now—always the weak-hearted fool. But the boy? That was the hard part. She just knew she wanted him somewhere where she didn’t have to see those eyes—somewhere dark and far away from her. Somewhere only she knew, where he existed only for her to know he would never know happiness again!

Just like—! Just like—!

Salem turned her head, catching a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She stared into furious blue eyes. Teeth bared, shoulders hitched, breath fast and heavy with her fury.

Blond hair. Pale skin. And for a second, she swore she caught a glimpse of hazel. Hazel eyes. The hazel eyes that so haunted her. The hazel eyes that boy shared with her father, who had locked her away. Who had put her in a marriage she hated. Who had tormented her for her entire life, even from beyond the grave.

Who had said absolutely nothing as he shoved her into her room and locked the door behind him, day after day after day.

As she had done to the child existing just beneath her feet.

“I’m not him,” she hissed at the mirror, at her own reflection. “I am not my father!”

But the mirror continued to lie. She saw him in her hands, in her skin, in her hair, in her wrinkles, in her fury. Every inch of her was _him_ , and she very nearly wanted to peel her flesh off, she was so disgusted.

Salem picked up the nearest object beside her and chucked it at the mirror. It shattered into a hundred different pieces, scattering across the floor.

It was then did she realize what she had thrown. A happy picture of her and her daughters from a few years ago.

Salem’s rage melted the slightest bit. She carefully picked her way through the shards, reaching down to pick up the broken frame. More glass joined the ones on the ground.

Her and her daughters. That was all she needed. The boy? The boy was just a mark.

She clenched her hands, her eyes drifting back to the basement. She slipped a shard of glass from the frame and made her way to the door.

The fury built until it went somewhere beyond it. Somewhere beyond wrath. Like when one touches something so cold it starts to burn. Her anger was at a point so high, she felt calm. A clarity went through her. Like when she slit Ozpin’s throat.

It would be easy. She knew it would be easy. She had done it before. Of course, that hadn’t been on purpose before.

She made her way down the stairs and those ugly hazel eyes met hers through the darkness.

He seemed to know. Some part of him seemed resigned to it. She almost couldn’t stand it. She wanted him to scream, try to scramble away, but he only watched quietly as she approached.

She clenched the shard of glass so hard, she felt her own blood start to trickle down her knuckles.

As always, they stared at each other in silence.

Until, without warning, without even a shout, she struck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phantomdragon321--this chapter hurt to write even more than the last one.... owie.... ;O;
> 
> TheAngelofFate -- It DID! But the angst is so good! >:D Our poor baby boy Oscar went through hell and back this chapter, wait till you all see Oz's chapter though. We apologize in advance. XD
> 
> Feedback in the comments down below are always welcome and appreciated and we will see you all in the next one!


	13. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an escape is planned

“ _Oscar_ …?”

When Oscar blinked his eyes open, he felt colder than usual, and his body felt heavy. A sharp pain went through his neck as he tried to raise himself.

“Don’t move,” someone whispered. “They’re not deep, but they won’t stop bleeding. Just lie still. Mom is gone for right now, but she could be back at any moment.”

 _Mom…_?

The memory of Salem’s cold stare before she pounced at him resurfaced. Oscar immediately tried to move away from the person above him, shrinking away in fear. He took in a deep inhale that made his throat burn, weakly batting the hands away from him.

“Stop, Oscar, please, stop,” the person hissed, grabbing him by the shoulders and pushing him down.. “It’s only me—it’s Prim! I know you’re scared. You have a good reason to be. Just, please, I need you to trust me and be still.”

Oscar slowly stopped fighting, mostly because his head was starting to spin. He pinched his brows together, sucking a breath into his weak lungs, feeling in all the world like he was dying. Like this was the end.

Above him, Primrose continued to press down on his neck, applying a great amount of pressure to the wound—no… _wounds_? It certainly felt like more than one cut. And he was fairly certain that was what she said.

Oscar closed his eyes and lay still on the icy concrete beneath him. It felt like it was sucking what little warmth he had in his body.

After a while, Oscar felt Primrose shift. “This might sting a little.”

Oscar winced as a cold cloth pressed against his throat. _A little_ seemed like a great understatement. He hissed through his teeth, clenching his jaw as searing hot pain ripped across the gashes, bringing tears to his eyes.

“Sorry,” Primrose whispered, “I’m so sorry…” She carefully lifted his head and something itchy started winding around his neck.

Once the itchy gauze was secure, Primrose stood up. “I have to go. She’ll be back any second now. Just please be okay. Just hold on until I can come back down later, okay?”

Oscar tiredly nodded, not entirely comprehending all of that.

The door closed shut just as his eyes did.

He woke up to the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. He flinched, wondering if it was Salem come to torture him again. Instead, something warm was draped over him, like a big hug. Oscar sighed and curled into himself, the warm feeling making its way all over his tired and sore body, making him feel content for the first time in weeks. 

“Sorry if I woke you,” Primrose said, sitting next to him. “I know you were probably trying to rest. But I figured you’d want something to keep warm. It’s a heated blanket. And I brought you some water.”

Oscar forced himself to sit up, keeping the warm blanket wrapped around him. He took the glass of water Primrose offered him and downed it quickly, the gashes on his throat burning angrily with each swallow. However, he was too parched to focus on the pain.

When he was done, he placed the cup down and buried his face in the warm blanket. There was some weight to it, which really did make it feel like there was someone hugging him.

Before he knew it, he’d fallen asleep again, rising to the sound of a watch beeping.

“It’s time for me to go to school. I’m so sorry, I have to take the blanket back. I don’t know what Mom will do if she catches you with it.”

Oscar rose enough to pull the blanket off of him. Still out of it and tired, he barely noticed Prim quickly disinfecting and changing the bandages around his neck.

“I’ll be back, okay?”

Oscar nodded blearily, watching Primrose disappear through the door, into the bright morning light, before it closed quietly behind her.

This was their routine for the next few days. Primrose would come down late at night to share her heated blanket with him and change his bandages and offer him water and the occasional few bland snack foods she could sneak from the kitchen.

“My sister Iclyn works at a clinic. She says the best thing you can do after nearly starving to death is to drink a lot of water and go slow with food. Cause you might wind up throwing up after eating a big meal right off the bat. Tomorrow, I’ll bring you more to eat, though, okay?”

Oscar nodded and Primrose stayed with him there in the basement as he managed to catch a few hours of comfortable sleep with the help of the heated blanket and the extra pillow Primrose had brought him. Those few precious hours of sleep seemed so short, however.

It was almost as if Primrose was leaving after a mere blink of the eye to head off to school.

Oscar waited throughout the long, cold, dark day in the basement. The eight hours stretched on and on and on. He spent that time scratching more doodles on the wall with his rock, for lack of anything better to do. After only a few hours of scratching, however, his fingers grew raw from holding the tiny rock pinched between his fingers and he had to take a break.

He spent maybe an hour pacing, counting the seconds away.

It was times like these when things really started slipping away from him. When the darkness became too much. When he couldn’t seem to keep control of his own emotions and he got too overwhelmed by the sheer nothingness—the uneventful, concrete box in which he found himself in.

Oscar collapsed to the floor, his hands pressed against his ears, the silence so deafening, he felt the need to create his own silence.

He was starting to hallucinate now, from lack of emotional attachment and physical companionship. He saw shadows on the walls, and afterimages of things he’d rather not see. His scribbles seemed to surround him from every corner, staring into him, and he wished that he honestly hadn’t made them. Because sometimes he swore they jumped at him and skittered around him.

If he closed his eyes long enough—to block out the shadows and afterimages and scribble apparitions—he could see Beacon, the very school he was so nervous to go to in the first place, with all the students running about and laughing together. 

He always wanted to be alone back there, because he always felt like he was suffocating, being somewhere so populated, but now he would give anything to be back there again. He missed his friends, he missed Ruby, the teachers, and Glynda. 

Most of all, he missed Ozpin.

 _Gods_ , did he miss his dad.

He needed Oz, he needed him so badly that it _ached_.

Oscar felt a pang jolt through him whenever he thought of Oz, which was often, and he had to take a moment to breathe, while clinging his chest with his hand. In the times he would pass out, he’d dream of his dad. He’d dream of Oz bursting through the door to save him, scooping him up and holding him close and sobbing, telling him that everything was going to be okay and that he loved him. 

But then the dream would end right before they got out the door, and reality would crash back into Oscar as his body would jerk, and send him into a spiral of gasps, and then heartache. Because as much as he appreciated the dreams, while they provided an escape, the emotional backlash they had when he woke up left him destroyed. He’d cry then, sobbing there on the ground to the point where he’d vomit what little food he had in his stomach, begging and _pleading_ for Ozpin to save him, for the dream to become real and his sanity broke that much more.

But even still he refused to give in.

His grip on his bangle would tighten during these moments, there were so many times where he just wanted to give and cease to be. But then he’d feel the object press against his wrist and thought, if that dream were possible, if there was even the slightest chance that Oz would rescue him… He had to fight, he had to live because what would Oz do, how would his dad react if he’d burst through that door and found that he was too late? 

It would kill him, he knew that it would. Oz was horrible at taking care of himself, after the trauma and pain he endured from Salem years ago. 

Because as Glynda stated to him a week before the court case, “ _Before you, he never opened himself up to anyone. He was so very scared of loving anyone since Salem made him truly believe she’d end anything that made him happy.”_ Meaning that without Oscar there to be there for Oz, he’d surely choose to cease himself, that he would rather lay down and die, because the pain was too great for him to handle anymore.

So Oscar chose to fight, no matter how much he wished to give up, he would decide to look Salem in the eye and say _‘_

> _No, you won’t win’._

Even two months later, he was still holding on, gods know how.

Though he thinks it has something to do with Primrose. After Salem had cut his neck, Oscar noticed that she was acting differently than before. No longer was she defending her mother. She didn’t even bring her up in whispered conversations they’d have late during the night.

Or at least, what had counted as conversations, especially during those first few secret meetings. The most he could get out was a horrible rasp, as the wounds on his neck hurt when he spoke. The vibrations of his own voice made them throb painfully. But he managed to answer where he could, if only in mostly hand gestures.

She helped him the best she could, gently dabbing infected wounds and changing out the bandages every few hours when she could manage to sneak down.

She mostly asked him questions about Oz. 

> _Is he really a Headmaster at one of the greatest schools of Remnant?_
> 
> _What does he like to do for a hobby?_
> 
> _Does he give nice hugs?_

The questions went on and on for days before Oscar managed to push through the horrible soreness of his throat and ask her why the change in attitude? And to his surprise, she answered honestly. Saying that after she had left the room that day, she had a fight with Salem about her treatment of him and it ended with her believing every word he said. Especially after the day she had first come down after his injury. When she had seen him covered in his own blood, shivering from both the cold of the basement and anemia.

“Wait….” Oscar had said, as she checked the wounds on his neck after Salem went out for work. “Are you.... Saying you believe me? This isn’t some trick?”

“Would I have asked about Dad if I really didn’t? Especially after… well… _this_...” She said quietly, while she gently disinfected the wound and wrapped it gauze. ”So yes. I believe you.”

The knowledge that she believed him. That his own sister who had, in the beginning, thought he was crazy and mentally ill, finally actually believed him. The thought was enough for the floodgates to start. But he pushed them back, when she looked at him and asked if he wanted a hug, he smiled at her and shook his head, saying that the first hug he wanted when he eventually got away from Salem was to be with Ozpin. 

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say to Prim, because her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she looked conflicted. “Okay, that only makes me want to hug you even more.” She was smiling, wiping at her eye, “That was the most sweetest and sappiest thing I’ve ever heard.”

For the first time in months, Oscar let out a genuine laugh that actually didn’t feel hollow, despite it being slightly painful. “Sappy? Ha, that’s funny. I guess he’s rubbing off on me.”

* * *

The next morning, she snuck down to him early. “Mom is still asleep upstairs. I figured you’d want something else to eat other than just white rice, so I warmed up some leftover lasagna.”

Oscar blinked in surprise. “Really? You did that for me?”

Primrose nodded and reached over to squeeze his skeletal hand. “I’ll see if I can sneak something more down to you after school, okay?”

Oscar nodded and shakily took the plate from her. All at once, it was like the two senses that had gone dullest—smell and taste—suddenly came back to him. The first bite of lukewarm lasagna was enough to send tears to his eyes.

“Do you like it?” Primrose asked hopefully.

He nodded rapidly, putting a hand over his mouth, to flourishing taste buds. His mouth exploded with saliva and he chewed slowly, resisting the urge to scarf down all of the food given to him, simply because he didn’t want the wonderful sensation of taste to be over. He finished up the lasagna and cup of apple juice, pacing himself a bit more because he knew every second Primrose was down there with him was a giant risk.

When he was done, he handed her the plate and cup. She nodded to him and quickly snuck back up the stairs, closing him back in darkness and leaving him to bask in the sensation of feeling full for the first time in weeks.

True to her word, Primrose managed to sneak from strawberries during the afternoon after she came home from school. This happened day after day, Primrose bringing him meals and disinfectant and a fresh change of bandages where she could, between Salem’s usual times of glaring and dropping off white rice.

Then, for the first time in two months, after their momentary glare-off, Salem suddenly opened her mouth. “Not hungry?” Her eyes wandered down to the bowl left untouched at his feet.

Oscar narrowed his eyes. With Primrose’s assistance, he’d been able to eat as much as he needed to in order to not starve. So sick of white rice, he opted to not touch the bowl Salem had given him. Perhaps that wasn’t the right call. He was usually always desperate enough to scarf down the plain rice, even if the horrible lack of taste made him want to scream.

He didn’t respond to Salem. They stared at each other for a moment longer until she hummed with a grossly musing look on her face. She made her way back up the stairs and closed the door, sealing him back in.

Then one evening when everything was as quiet as normal, Oscar heard the usual knock on the door signifying it was Primrose. He stood up in anticipation, eager to talk to the one friend he had in this place that wasn’t a silent scribble. However, a beat passed. Then another. The knock had come, but for some reason Primrose didn’t enter.

“ _Oscar_ ,” he heard a hiss from beyond the door.

Oscar stumbled up the stairs of the basement. He pressed his hands against the worn wood of the door, wondering if it was really her or if this was some game Salem was playing to get his hopes up.

“ _Oscar_ ,” came another whisper and this time Oscar recognized it.. 

“P-Prim?” he whispered back.

“Oscar, I can’t get the door open,” Primrose’s voice sounded desperate.

“Is it jammed?”

“No, I think it… it’s locked. What do I do?” she asked frantically. “Mom must have found out that I was going down here.”

Oscar felt tears prick his eyes. Of course Salem would resort to locking the door when she suspected something was off. Just one bowl of uneaten rice was enough for her to figure it out.

“I’m sorry,” Primrose said, a dip in her voice that made it evident that she truly was sorry. He heard a slide against the door and saw her shadow underneath it.

He sighed and slumped against it as well, sitting there at the top of the stairs. “It’s okay. It isn’t your fault. Thank you for trying to help me, though.”

She stuck by him all night, huddled there beside him at the door, whispering to him. When morning came, she uttered her goodbye and was off to school. Oscar slipped back down the stairs, heading to his usual place by the boiler for when Salem arrived with _‘breakfast’_.

Hours and hours of numbing silence and darkness later—where he wondered if senses were real at all or if they were completely made up—Oscar heard that knock on the door again. And this time, he felt no fear. He climbed up the steps to the door. He heard pacing on the other side and at first wondered if he was mistaken.

However, these footsteps lacked the usual cruel, hard sound that Salem’s heals had. The squeak made it sound almost like sneakers crossing the tile. Oscar hesitantly decided to speak up.

“P-Prim? Is that you? Is… Is something wrong?” 

Primrose didn’t answer him. In fact she didn’t even acknowledge he was there, she just kept pacing, back and forth she paced from one side of the door to the other. Oscar was genuinely starting to get concerned for her.

“Prim? Are you okay?” He felt compelled to know immediately what was wrong, she was his sister after all. And she had been kind to him these past few weeks.

Finally she spoke, but it wasn’t directed towards him, “She cut the cords.” 

Oscar blinked, confused, “What?”

Primrose stopped pacing and came to the door, whispering through it, “I was gonna call the police a few days after she hurt you, right? I was going to call them and inform them of what she was doing to you but then my Scroll suddenly disappeared. I went to use the landline but it was gone too. So today I thought I could just use our computer…” Prim laughed, it was devoid of humor and sounded hollow, “But the internet isn’t working now.”

Oscar licked his chapped lips, “Wait… are you... trying to get me out of here?”

“ _Yes_. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought she might somehow figure it out. But, well, given the locked door… I guess she already had an idea...”

Oscar felt touched that his sister would go to such lengths to save him, but he also felt scared, “Pri, I appreciate the thought, the help, but I told you why I can’t leave.”

“I know why. And it is really sweet how you want to protect Dad and all, but Oscar,” She knelt down at the door and he watched her shadow carefully, wishing he could see her face-to-face. “If you stay here any longer, you will die. It’s why I was trying to sneak you meals after she goes to bed, or bringing you snacks and lunch after she goes to work. You need the strength and endurance to escape. Now more than ever since we can’t contact the police.” 

Oscar ran a hand through his hair, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that when the time is right, and I don’t know when, but when it happens, you will need to run for it. Escape on your own. Not wait for Dad to come and rescue you, because he’s probably powerless to do so.”

“Pri...” He gestured to himself and his overall condition even though she couldn’t see it, “Even if your extra meals have helped me gain a little back, I’m in no shape to run away.”

“Then I’ll carry you, _dammit_ .” She _really_ sounded like she wanted to burst through the door and embrace him now. “Listen, you want to see Dad, right? You want to have your first hug be with him, right?”

The question caused unwanted tears to spring to his eyes, “Y-Yeah…”

“Then no matter how thin you are or how poor your endurance is, when it’s time to run from here, you _run_. Okay?”

Oscar’s breath hitched deep in his throat, and nodded “Okay.”

“Just give me a little time to figure out how to get you out of here.”

Oscar nodded, listening to her fading footsteps from behind the door. He wasn’t entirely sure what they were going to do. How he was going to get out of here. Was she going to steal the key from Salem? What could she possibly do?

Two days passed. He spent what time he could trying to rest and keep as much energy as he could. Sleeping for hour after hour was starting to get really, really hard, however. Partly due to nightmares, partly due to fear, and also because it was nearly impossible to fall asleep on cold cement.

Right when he thought his sanity was about to break, that he was about to start scratching at the walls with his nails to try to get out, he was awoken by that same knock at the door, he rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes and yawn. He went up the stairs to the door. “Prim?”

“Hold on,” she whispered back to him. “And get ready to hold up the door.”

“Hold up the _door_? What are you going to do?”

“Well, I tried learning how to lockpick, but apparently that’s really, really hard. So, um, I’m just going to unscrew the hinges.”

Oscar had to laugh in spite of their situation. “You tried learning how to pick locks for me?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly have a lot of options. And Mom would immediately know if I stole the basement key. A screwdriver on the other hand? Not so much.”

He heard Primrose start to work on the hinges. With each ping on the floor from each tiny little screw, Oscar felt himself grow more and more tense, waiting for Salem to come and catch Primrose in the act. Yet he also felt a sense of excitement—a need for the screws to fall quicker, for him to be _free_.

“Get ready, okay?”

Oscar swallowed thickly, slowly getting onto his feet.

He heard the last screw fall and immediately made sure to be there to help Primrose catch the heavy basement door. It fell off completely and they both moved it over to lean it quietly against the nearest wall.

They backed up, staring at it for a few seconds to make sure it wouldn’t fall. They breathed two twin sighs of relief and his sister bent down, sliding two backpacks over. She offered her hand out to him, “Are you ready to see Dad?”

Oscar’s heart skipped a beat. This was it, it was happening right now. Freedom and the chance to see Oz again was just beyond his reach and all he had to do was answer and take his older sister’s hand. 

Slowly, he took a breath. “Yes.”

For the first time in over two months, he was outside of the basement, standing in front of the door that had been taunting him day after day. Oscar’s legs felt weak underneath him. Actually, his whole body felt weak, and crackled a bag of chips due to sleeping on the hard floor for so many nights. But he pushed through the fatigue and stiffness, letting Primrose pull him along through the house by the wrist.

His eyes were immediately drawn to the windows, to the bright moonlight pooling in. Primrose obviously didn’t think too much of it. To her, the living room might as well be just as dark as the basement, she didn’t see much of a difference. 

But to Oscar, it meant the world. To see something other than grey concrete and pipes. The forest beyond the house appeared almost phantasmagorical—as if it couldn’t possibly be real. Maybe he was dreaming again. 

Oscar shook himself just to make sure. That fear was so real and intense, he felt like smacking himself. To make sure that this _wasn’t_ a dream and that this was, in fact, _real_ . That he was escaping the basement _right this moment,_ and wouldn’t wake up back on the icy floor.

Primrose pulled him to the front door, opening it as quietly as possible.

As they stepped outside, Oscar took in a deep breath. He had to resist the urge to close his eyes and bask in it. He could have stood out there, taking his first gasps of fresh air in two months, for hours if time permitted it.

Unfortunately, there was no time to take it all in. Primrose pulled him down the driveway and they began their long trek down the road.

Twenty minutes later, out of breath and praying they made it without Salem noticing, they arrived at the train station. Oscar watched as Prim bought and paid for a ticket, but noticed she only purchased one back to Vale. “Wait, what about you?” 

Prim smiled at him sheepishly, her expression sad, “I only managed to scrounge up enough for one ticket. I didn’t feel like I could steal from her without her noticing. She’s always been very thorough when it comes to her money. So yeah…”

Oscar felt something constrict his heart, “You're not coming with me.” 

She shook her head, “I’m not coming with you.”

Now he was scared for her. “But where will you go? If you stay here, who knows what she’ll do. Especially when she finds out you helped me escape.”

Prim ruffled his hair then, “Silly, I’m not going back to her, otherwise I wouldn’t have packed a second bag! I’ll go to Iclyn’s home in Atlas. She hasn’t had a lot of contact with my mother recently and I know if I tell her what I found out, she’ll believe me, I always was her favorite.” She winked at him then as the train chimed that it would be pulling into the station. 

But Oscar was still concerned as Primrose pushed him towards the train doors, “But… Atlas is miles away, how are you going to—”

“Easy! _Hitchhike_!”

But that did little to ease Oscar’s still growing nerves, “Pri! That’s even _worse_! You're sixteen!” 

She laughed at him, still gesturing him towards the train, “And you’re _fifteen_ , your point?” 

A weak, growl of frustration erupted from Oscar, did they both get this stubbornness from Oz? “My point is—”

“ _Look_ .” Prim grabbed his arms and shook him gently, “I don’t have any other options, and neither do you and we _don’t_ have time for this. So you get on this train and go see Dad. Okay?”

Oscar’s argument died in his throat at her words, instead he sighed, “Fiiine. Just.... Promise me you’ll be careful?”

She waved him off, a smile on her face that reached her eyes, “Meh, you know me.”

His expression became monotoned, “I’ve known you for two months.” 

Prim shrugged, “ _Tomato Tomahto._ ”

As the second chime rang out that the train was about to close its doors, Oscar looked at Prim and was suddenly hit with a rush of nostalgia, the last time he stood on a train, saying goodbye to someone, it had been over a year ago with Auntie Em. 

“Prim?” He said, voice suddenly small and emotional. “Thank you… For everything.”

Primrose’s eyes suddenly strung with tears, and she snickered, taking his hand into hers and gently squeezing them, “Anytime, little brother.”

Oscar stepped back as the doors closed, he waved to her as he felt the familiar jostle of the train moving. Prim walked along the train, waving at him, until she met the end of the walkway, and continued to wave some more, then she was gone.

And Oscar was left alone on this train, still so very weak from the pain and trauma he endured these last two months but now that he was free he was even more determined to fight. 

Still though, he was getting tired. The trek up to the train station from Salem’s home did nothing for his physicality. His breathing was labored as he continued to stand on his feet knowing that if he sat down, even to rest his sore legs and aching body, he wouldn’t be able to back up again. 

So he stood, the entire three hour ride back to Vale.

And once he was there, he was practically dead on his feet. He barely had enough energy to walk off the train and onto the platform. His body, his very limbs screamed in protest, in agony at being so pushed beyond the limit. But in spite of his shaking, he breathed through the pain he felt, and kept on going. 

He somehow managed to limp his way past the marketplace, the street lamps were on but no one was around. He was alone, and he felt that loneliness as the cold licked at his skin and gave him goosebumps. But he looked up and saw Beacon in the distance, saw the top of the tower that was Oz’s office, and saw a glow in the distance. 

He kept walking.

But unfortunately for him. It was only a matter of time before his body gave out and that happened when he had made it into the Beacon courtyard. He didn’t collapse, he refused to, he knew if he did his legs wouldn’t listen. So instead he stood there, body twitching, fighting off the urge to just give up. 

“Please… I’m almost there.” He begged to himself, pleaded with every ounce of strength he had. “ _Please…_ ”

“Pine?” 

He looked up towards the voice

And suddenly there was Cardin, standing there a foot away from him, “ _C-Cardin_?” 

Cardin took a step forward and once he did, his eyes widened, as though he was taking in Oscar’s appearance for the very first time, “I— What… What happened?”

Gods, wasn’t that a loaded question.

Oscar didn’t know if this was due to seeing someone from his old life for the first time in months or his body finally giving out, but Oscar's legs collapsed underneath him and he fell forward. 

He felt equal parts defeated and triumphant. He dug his fingernails into the dirt and let out a dry laugh that turned into a sob. 

Then he felt a presence in front of him. He could feel the awkwardness there, but also an urge to help. “Do– Do you want me to call someone? Take you somewhere? You look like you _really_ need a hospital.”

Oscar shook his head, “No hospitals. At least not yet. Just— take me to Ozpin… _please_.” 

Cardin looked so unsure of himself as he reached his hands out and maneuvered Oscar into his back. Oscar guessed that even after a year since his tried to kill Oscar, he was still trying to better himself. His talk with Oz after the prank he and Ruby pulled on him looked to have changed him. It was like Cardin had become a different person. No longer was he the bully of Beacon Academy. 

No longer was he the teen who’s hands were wrapped around Oscar’s throat.

And Oscar couldn’t be happier to know that. “Cardin?” 

Cardin stopped walking, “Yeah?”

“I forgive you.” 

He couldn’t see Cardin’s face when he said these words but he did feel his body stiffen. Then he let out a laugh, “Let’s get you to Ozpin.” Then the time it took them to get from the courtyard to the front entrance of Oz’s office. Oscar began to fall in and out of consciousness. His head lulled to the side, occasionally resting against Cardin’s. Which made the older teen adjust his grip on Oscar while still trying to be as gentle as possible.

Then finally Oscar felt Cardin jostled him just the slightest bit, “Hey? We’re here.” Oscar rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he tried to register Cardin’s words, he opened his eyes just enough, cleared away some of the haze to see Cardin reaching for the doorknob. 

Oscar felt something surge in his heart, giving him energy and he had the sudden urge to be the one to open the door. “Wait!” He gripped Cardin’s shoulders tightly, “You… You can put me down.”

Cardin gave him a sideways glance, “You sure?” 

He nodded, “Y-Yeah, I want… I want to do it.” 

Cardin looked unsure of the whole idea but gently placed him down anyway. And there Oscar stood, in front of Oz’s office, his hands shook, his heart raced, beating wildly in his chest. The knowledge that he was here, that after these last two months of isolation, and pain and toxicity from Salem, he was here ready to see his Dad. It was a feeling he never experienced before, and that gave him the strength he needed to open the door. 

Only for everything to come crashing back down when he saw that the person in the room wasn’t Ozpin, but Glynda. 

He gapped at the woman, feeling equal parts relieved to see her too but also a crushing horror. _Where was Oz?_ “G-Glynda?” 

She looked up and looked like a deer caught in headlights, she stood up from Oz’ chair. “ _Oscar_ !?” She maneuvered around the desk and rushed over to him, “My god… What are you… _What did she do to you_?”

But Oscar didn’t care about answering those questions, all he cared about was one. “Where’s Oz?” His heart felt heavy and it felt like it was about to crumble to pieces because _where was Ozpin_? He fell to his knees, the strength he had before now long gone, “Where’s my dad?”

Glynda looked about ready to break down along with him, she tenderly gripped his shoulders, looked at him with wide and perplexed eyes, “He… He’s gone—”

Oscar didn’t give Glynda the chance to finish for he left out a wail of anguish. “No!” 

_Oh gods, he was too late?_

Had he taken too long in escaping and Oz just decided to give up? Let his trauma and depression consume him? That would explain why Glynda was sitting in his chair. She’d always joked about being the real Headmistress of Beacon, but that was only supposed to remain nothing more than a joke. But was that the reality now—was Ozpin really…? 

“No! _No_!”

Glynda suddenly grabbed his face in her hands “Oscar! No! You didn’t let me finish. Gone as in not _here_ . As in, he left to go _somewhere_. He’s alive, I promise.” 

Tears fell from his eyes, he sniffled. “R-Really?”

Glynda smiled at him fondly, wiping away his tears with the pads of her thumb, “Yes. I can’t say he’s fine. I can’t say he’s not in a bad place, that he’s not letting his pain consume him… But he’s alive, I promise you that he is.” 

“But… Where is he?” His body was shaking now, he needed to see Oz, he needed his dad. “Where is he?”

Glynda grabbed him by the arms and helped him stand on his feet, “Oscar, right now you need medical--”

“NO!” They didn’t understand! Why didn’t they understand? For the last two months he's dreamt of doing nothing else then being free and seeing Ozpin again, that was what kept him going. Nothing else mattered to him at this moment then seeing his dad. 

His body be damned. 

Oscar looked at Glynda, his eyes bloodshot and pleading, “Please, I need to see him… _Please_.” 

It took a split second of Glynda looking at him, looking into his pleading eyes for her to make a decision. In one swift motion, she scooped Oscar up into her arms, and walked out of the room. Oscar struggled in protest for a second, before, Glynda ran her fingers through his hair, shushing him. “It’s okay. It’s alright, I’ll take you to him.”

Oscar felt himself falling out of consciousness again, as he rested his head against Glynda’s shoulder. He felt an emotion come over him, and for a moment, just a moment he wished Glynda or his Aunt were his mothers instead of Salem. He’d gladly accept two mothers, over Salem, at least he knew they cared about him, unlike the woman who gave birth to him

It was only when he felt the cool air hit his skin did he manage to acknowledge that he was outside. 

“Mr. Winchester. Please, you have classes in a few hours!” 

He looked to his left as he felt himself being placed in the back of a car, it’s soft cushions were like heaven against his back and Oscar had to fight the urge to lay down and pass out for a week. And saw that Cardin was attempting to get inside the car through the other backdoor. “Professor, listen, no disrespect _really_. But I’m going, please… I need to make sure he’s okay.”

Cardin wanted to come? 

In retrospect, he shouldn’t be surprised he wanted to come, considering having carried him all the way to Oz’s office, looking concerned and unsure if he should take him to the doctor instead. But Oscar couldn’t help the slight surprise that went through him. The surprise that Cardin cared so much.

“He… He can come,” He murmured through half lidded eyes. Seconds later, Oscar felt the cushions in the backseat dip, and Oscar lost the will to fight off the urge anymore. He leaned forward and rested his temple against Cardin’s thigh. Oscar never had siblings growing up, he never knew what it was like to grow up with an older brother before, but despite their rocky start, Oscar wished that if he had a brother, he’d want him to be like Cardin. “Thanks, Cardin.” 

He felt a hesitant hand lay on his shoulder. “You’re welcome, kid.”

As they drove through the countryside, Oscar watched the trees and the sky pass him by heading towards wherever his dad had run off to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TheAngelofFate— The chapter you guys have been waiting for! Time for Oscar to gtfo of Salem's hands and get to his dad! He is a boy on a mission and he is getting to his father no matter what he has to do! 
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated down in the comments down below and we will see you all later


	14. The Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Those two long months apart, from Ozpin's perspective.

From the moment his son was ripped away from him in the courtroom, even as he pleaded and screamed at the judge, Ozpin ceased being able to breathe properly. They came out in hitches, short little breaths that barely did anything for him and at some points left him dizzy with how little oxygen he was actually getting, but he didn’t care.

Slowly, bit by bit, he started to realize that doing the things he enjoyed no longer filled him with contentment. His personal habits, like drinking cocoa and reading fairy tales, feeding Knife and the other birds outside. 

He didn't even care about running Beacon anymore, which had been his escape from losing his daughters, but this time? 

Beacon held so many memories of the times he’d had with Oscar. The entire school filled him with such a heartache that he could barely stand it. 

James tried to talk to him, tried to get him back on his feet and distract with work, because it had worked last time. So giving him a task to do would work _this_ time, right? 

James sighed rather loudly, as he adjusted the scarf around Oz’s neck as he helped him get dressed, regardless if it was the last thing he wanted to do. “C’mon, once we get working, it’ll be okay.” 

James practically had to carry him through the school, which got some very concerned and strange looks from his students. He pushed him into his chair, and gave him a stack of papers to sign and put away. 

Ozpin tried for James’ sake more than anything. Because he knew James was trying and he knew he was only trying to help. But in the end, he just couldn’t, eventually he began to stare off into space and seconds later, tears formed into his eyes. 

“ _Oz_.” James sounded helpless, his expression, which was always calm and composed, looked just as broken as he felt on the inside. 

He smiled at James through a sheen of tears, setting his pen down. “I’m sorry.” And he hated himself that much more for not being the strong person James always saw him as, “I’m sorry…”

A week later, Qrow tries. He arrives at Oz’s place with a pound of birdseed in his arms. If Ozpin wasn’t so broken-hearted he might have found it funny. “Uh… Hey, Oz.” Qrow waved at him, looking a little awkward standing there, “I uh… noticed that your feeders have been empty for a while now, so I thought we could refill them?”

And just like with James, Oz tried his best, he really did. He grabbed two mugs from the kitchen and the ladder from the closet, while Qrow opened up the bag. He even managed to fill at least two bird feeders on his own, with no issue. But then his hands began to shake when his eyes fell on the tree that Oscar had climbed when they learned of their relation. 

Tears flooded his vision at the memory and his heart ached, and he didn’t realize he overflowed the feeders until it was spilling out the sides, anger sparked within him and he tossed the mug on the ground below, it broke on impact as he practically jumped from the ladder and walked up his steps into his home. 

“Oz!” 

Then just as quickly, the anger dissipated, and he was left staring at his door handle, his shocked face reflecting in the handle. Slowly, he turned back towards Qrow, looking at his hands. 

“I… I’m sorry. I-I don’t know what came over me.” 

But in the back of his mind, he knew. He knew exactly what was wrong with him, he just didn’t have the heart to tell Qrow, so instead, he walked inside, closed the curtains and lit a cigarette to calm down, the first one he’s had in fifteen years

He paced back and forth across the kitchen tile, raising his shaky hand to his mouth to inhale sharp smoke into his lungs until the cigarette was finished. Without thinking, he grabbed another one from the package and immediately lit that one, then another when that ran out. Finally, after what felt like hours, he had to stop, too fatigued and dizzy and keep pacing angrily back and forth.

He put his back against the fridge and slid down into a sitting position. He held his throbbing, dizzy head in his hands, realizing for the first time that he hadn’t eaten or drunken anything all day. But he didn’t care. Even though his stomach felt empty and his mouth was dry, he wasn’t hungry. Or thirsty.

After a while of sitting there, he managed to get up again and shuffle into the living room. But looking around it made a sharp pain go through his chest.

He couldn’t even stand being in his own home anymore. It had once filled him with such a calm serenity, but now...

He stood amongst the books that Oscar loved to read, the tea that Oscar loved to drink, while they sat across from each other trying to figure out what the best fairytale was. Now he felt such agony being here, to the point where there were moments he chose to wander around Forever Falls just to get away from it.

But even that didn’t help, because Oscar was here too, in the times they walked this pathway together, where at one point Oscar through a hand full of leaves his direction, and they spent three whole hours having a snow fight without the snow.

His heart lay open like a wound, a wound that someone was constantly pouring salt onto, a wound that Ozpin knew would never heal, thanks to Salem. 

Another day passed. Or maybe two. Or three. He didn’t know and he didn’t really care. Time didn’t really mean anything to him anymore. What the hell did it matter what day it was?

He was on the porch, leaning against the railing, staring out into the trees. Though, not exactly. His eyes were looking, but his brain wasn’t processing what he was looking at. The world was a distant blur beyond him. In much the same ways his thoughts were. He didn’t know what exactly he thought about all day and night. He was sure his brain was stewing over something, but he could never recall it.

He just had this vague sense of anger and emptiness. There was no direction or focus to it. It was like stuffing between his ears.

So he didn’t notice someone approaching him until a voice called out, “Oz?”

Ozpin didn’t jump nor react, really, outside of silently turning his head. The blonde and purple told him that it was Glynda, but he didn’t completely understand the meaning behind that as he raised another cigarette to his lips.

“How many of those have you had?”

The question didn’t register until about several long beats later.

“Oz—?”

“Don’t know,” he replied at last.

He saw Glynda’s gaze wander to the empty pack beside him, and the freshly opened one he was smoking from. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe you’ve had enough for today.”

“Oh? What are you going to do? Take it away, like _she_ used to?”

Glynda’s face grew shocked, “Ozpin—”

He looked back out into the woods. “I don’t know why I bothered with…” he trailed off. 

“With what?”

He gestured to the trees with his hands. “I was alone out here. There was nothing to lose when I was on my own. Nothing until people started walking into my woods.”

“You invited them in.”

“That was my mistake, then.”

“You know that isn’t true.” Glynda reached up and cupped his face in her hands, pulling his gaze back towards her. “No one can spend their life in seclusion like this.”

“And what else was I supposed to do?” he asked. “Live, love, settle down again? And _then_ what? I _tried_ that.”

“Salem doesn’t count. She was cruel and awful, Oz—!”

“She didn’t start out cruel and awful,” Ozpin snapped. “And where does it _start_ , Glynda? Where does the cruelty and awfulness come in?! When would it have started coming in with _you_?!”

Glynda withdrew her hands, shaking her head. “I’d _never_ hurt you. Never like that—never on purpose—”

“But how can I _know_ that?” he asked desperately. “How can I give my heart to you without knowing what you’ll do with it?”

“I—I don’t know, Ozpin. That’s the problem with everything, is the world is scary and unpredictable. But that doesn’t mean you can’t still _live_. That doesn’t mean you have to seal yourself away in these woods!” Glynda put her hands on his forearm. “Please. Let me help you. Qrow and Ironwood are worried sick about you, and so am I.”

Ozpin shook his head, feeling burning tears return to his eyes. Though he was sure they never really went away in the first place. There were just moments where he was more aware of them than usual. “I’d rather you let me be.”

“Ozpin, please—”

“ _Go away_ , Glynda!” He shouted. “Just _leave_!”

He turned his back and went inside, slamming the door behind him. He paused for a second when he was inside, realizing what he had done. That he had yelled at Glynda. That he was pushing her away. He turned to the window, watching her retreating form through the cracked curtains.

Days later, there was a knock. He managed to get up with a sigh and open the door. 

“I thought I said I wanted to—!”

He was genuinely shocked to see Cardin Winchester standing there. The last he had seen of Cardin was the time he and… when he came by for tea one evening. They didn’t talk much, and merely drank their tea in silence, but it had been nice, albeit a little awkward with nothing to talk about. 

“Mr. Winchester…” He blinked at his student. “Is there something you need?”

Cardin looked unsure of himself, as he stood there awkwardly, folding his hands together. “Uh… Kinda?”

Oz hesitated a little, then he opened the door a little further, “Would… Would you like to come in?” In the back of his mind he hoped that Cardin would say no, that he had to suddenly leave for classes, something. Because he hadn’t invited a student into his home since…

“I thought we could talk outside? Like on the steps?” 

Oz let out a breath through his nose, his tight grip on the door handle relaxing just a bit. Yes, he could do that, he could handle that much. “Of course.” 

It had been a while since he’d sat on his steps like this. Since he spent time just sitting here looking out at the beautiful scenery that was the gorgeous red trees of his front yard. He’d forgotten truly how calm and peaceful being out here was, despite it being the bubble in which he secluded himself in. But sitting here with Cardin reminded him of it for a brief moment.

“So what is it you wanted to discuss?”

Cardin picked at his fingernails, “You… You haven’t been around a lot lately?”

A lump formed in his throat within seconds, “Yes, I-I suppose so—”

“And you’ve been acting weird?”

Oz had the sudden urge to run away, he felt suddenly threatened by the questions his own student was directing his way. “How so?”

“Well for one, the smoking. I could smell it on you the moment you opened the door.”

“I—“

“And I _might_ have come by the day you were talking to Professor Goodwitch and you sounded… You were kinda—” Cardin paused as though he was debating within himself, before he turned his attention directly to Ozpin, “Being an asshole to her.” 

He felt something, felt that same feeling of anger _spark_ in his chest at these accusations. How dare this teen come here and say all this to him? Cardin didn't know what he was going through! He couldn't _understand—_ “I wasn’t—”

Cardin glared at him, “You fucking _were_ though!” The teen suddenly stood up, his eyes pierced through Oz and made him feel small, “You’re lashing out and hurting the people that want to help you!”

“I am not—”

Cardin shoved his shoulder. “Yes you are! You're hurting inside and lashing out to help deal with it!” Oz stood up then, ready to… defend himself? To push back? He opened his mouth to give some sort of argument but what Cardin said next made his heart nearly stop, “It has to do with Pine, right?” 

For a moment, the two of them stared at each other, locked in a staring contest that Oz didn’t have the energy to continue anymore. He looked away. 

“Rose didn’t tell me a lot but I know he’s been gone a while, I know a lot of fucked-up legal shit happened and I know from looking at you right now that you aren’t taking it well.” Cardin raised a hand and waved it in front of his face. “And seriously. The smoke makes you smell like my _dad_ . But somehow even _worse_ ! Like, have you bathed _at all_?”

Ozpin scoffed, but said nothing, because he knew Cardin had something to say, as Glynda, Qrow and James did, so he might as well say it. 

“I don’t know what’s happening. Hell, I don’t know a lot of stuff. But I do know what lashing out looks like.”

“Why are you saying all this, Mr. Winchester?” He murmured, “I didn’t know you cared.”

Cardin shook his head, “Nah, I don’t think care is the right word. More respect, more grateful cause... you helped me sort some things out and gave me some perspective. And I know that… that _Oscar_ wouldn’t want this from you.” Cardin chewed the inside of his lip, before shrugging and walking down the steps. “Just… think about that, kay? Don’t bite the people who are just trying to help you.” And then the boy left, leaving Ozpin alone as he walked back inside his home and closed the door. 

Cardin must have thought he had been doing Oz a favor, by coming here and talking to him, because his words had changed Cardin? His words, his kindness towards Cardin had managed to get through that last bit of his rough exterior. 

But unlike Cardin, Oz was not filled with a calm revelation and a desire to change. He knew the way he was acting wasn’t normal, the spouts of anger and neglecting his health. 

But what could he do? He lost one of the few people that has made him genuinely happy, taken by the woman who was hellbent on making him suffer until his final breath. 

And then quite quickly he felt a sudden rush of anger. Anger because he knew he was different, from knowing there was nothing he could do.

In a fit of rage and anguish, knowing that he was just a shell of the man he used to be, Oz practically tore his place apart, books scattered about, tea cups and mugs shattered. Seeing nothing but red, Oz felt his hand move, picked something up and immediately tossed it into the fireplace.

It took him seconds too late to realize that it was Monsieur Lucky he had thrown. It landed square into it and immediately caught aflame. 

His heart ceased in second, “No! _Nonono_!” 

He ran forward and without even thinking plunged his hands into the flames to rescue the bear from being forever lost to him like Oscar was. 

He barely flinched as the flames licked and danced at his skin, not even when he felt the cool air hit his burning flesh did he feel any pain. All his focus was on _Monsieur Lucky_ , it’s soft fur was charred in some areas, the bowtie was barely there, and stuffing had popped from the side. 

Tears formed in his eyes, guilt and shame of his actions consumed him, and he held the bear close to him, stroking its fur so tenderly and whispered how sorry he was to the toy. 

And that’s where Glynda found him hours later, still sitting in the same spot holding the bear that he cherished so much. He looked up at her, and gave her a broken smile, and a laugh that was more of a sob. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…” 

And he broke down once more, crying as Glynda held him close. 

“It’s okay.” She said gently, stroking his hair and kissing his temple. “I’ll fix it. I’ll take it, get it clean, stitch it up and he’ll be just fine.”

But there was nothing she could say to make this okay. This gift had been so _precious_ to him, even more so now after these last two months, but now look what he did. In a fit of rage, he’d destroyed it. He was no better than Salem, no better from Emma who’d practically abandoned her nephew.

Something registered in his sleep deprived, malnourished mind. 

If it hadn’t been for Emma, he wouldn’t be in this mess. This was all _her_ fault. 

This thought boiled inside of him for the best of three days, and then finally it simmered to the very top, boiled over and before he could lose the nerve, he got into his car with shaky hands and red rimmed eyes and drove. 

Drove all the way to Mistral. 

And by the time he got there he was in near hysterics. Mind racing, heart pounding in his ears so hard it was actually giving him a headache behind his eyes every time he blinked. He was all on the verge of collapsing both mentally and physically. Drastic weight loss, severe lack of sleep, dehydration combined with starvation, it was a surprise he hadn’t dropped dead from the severe amount of neglect he caused to himself. 

But his mind, as coming part as it was, was still able to make him move, make him act. And maybe it was because this was the first time in months he actually wanted to do something other than mourn the loss of his son, dwell on the gut wrenching fear that gripped his heart over god knows _what_ Salem was doing to his baby boy and have another piece of him die because of it. 

Body shaking, he barely registered any emotion at all as he pulled up to Emma Pine’s farm and got out. Luckily he didn’t have to go very far, he found her quite quickly, sweeping up the porch.

She must have sensed his presence because she looked up and her eyes grew wide seeing he was standing there. “Professor Ozpin?” 

Ozpin swayed as he stood there, on the verge of collapse but stubbornly continuing to stand out of spite and unyielding determination. “I need… to ask you something.”

She set her broom aside and went over to him, glancing over him with a concerned look. “You look—you look unwell, should I… do I need to take you to the hospital?” 

Ozpin shook his head. “Why?”

“Why?” Emma asked, bewildered. “Why what?”

“Why did you have to send him to Beacon? Why did you have to give me those papers? Why did you have to bring him into my life?” Ozpin asked, desperate. “If he hadn’t… if he hadn’t ever come to my school, none of this would have ever happened.”

“None of what? Professor Ozpin, you’re not making any sense! Is Oscar alright? What’s happened?”

Oz let out a dry and hollowed laugh, “Is he alright? _Is he alright?_ No, actually! He very much isn’t alright!" Emma’s eyes widened and she looked confused as well as horrified at this news, but Oz didn’t allow her a chance to speak because now that he was talking, he couldn’t stop. "Turns out, I’m his father! His actual father! And his _mother_ , the very woman who abused and nearly killed me when we were together, was pregnant after she divorced me, and gave him up without my consent. And the only reason she told me was out of spite, because I was happy with Oscar, and she hated that I was. So she _took him away from me!_ ”

“Wait… Wait—“ Emma looked equal parts mortified, adrift and dumbfounded and Oz couldn’t blame her, look at all the info he was dumping on her because his mind wasn’t in the right place and he couldn’t think straight. “Oscar’s _gone_?”

Her concern should have calmed him down somewhat, knowing that she did care should have registered something within Ozpin and made him think coherently again. But it didn’t; instead, it had the opposite effect. It just made him angry.

_Furious._

He’s never felt such rage. Never in his life. And in the very corners of his mind he knew the person that was to blame was Salem. 

Well, Salem and _himself._

For being so broken that he couldn’t accept help when it was offered. And there was a part of him that hated himself that much more for taking his anger out of the woman whom loved Oscar as much as he did. 

“You… You—“ His hands shook, his heart raced. “ _Don’t_ have the right to be concerned!” He felt like he was dying, his legs were weak and his heart felt like he was going to give out from the sheer intensity of the grief he was feeling. “If you hadn’t sent Oscar to Beacon…! If he never started attending my classes! _None_ of this wouldn’t have happened!”

“I—“ 

“He wouldn’t be with her, having _god_ knows what done to him! And I wouldn’t _feel_ this way again!” He ran his hands through his hair and pulled, “Because I was _fine_ ! I had learned to live with the hurt! I closed myself off from feeling love again and I was _fine_ with that!” He began pacing, going back and forth in the driveway, his mind in a downward spiral he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. “But then Oscar came, and he somehow wormed his way into my heart, and I wish he hadn’t because then he would be _safe!_ I wish I’d never decided to care about him at all—!”

His own words seemed to slam into him like a speeding train. It felt like something coiled in his mind and heart and then snapped in two. 

At first there was silence. A misty haze upon the horizons of his damaged mind. He could feel the hard painful lump in the back of his throat as the tears began to form. Slowly his breathing hallowed itself and an intense pain struck the deepest part of his heart. 

How could he even have thought that? How could he, even as damaged and shattered as he was, _ever_ regret loving Oscar? How could he ever wish he hadn’t met him when that boy has brought him such love in his heart, gave him a chance to move on and allow himself to be the one thing he’s never had in years?

Oscar made him happy. So very happy.

How dare he _ever_ wish anything had turned out any differently? How dare he blame Emma for all of this?

A cry tore from his throat, leaving it raw as his knees gave out and he fell hard against the dirt. Even he didn’t recognize his own voice repeating in a whisper, filled with guilt over his words of Oscar and towards Emma who only ever did what she thought was best for someone she loved. 

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry!” 

He felt someone hold him close, running a gentle hand down his back. “Shh, it’s okay.” Emma soothed softly, “Professor Ozpin? I don’t understand exactly what’s happening, but what I do know, is that you have pushed yourself to the breaking point and you need a hospital.” 

Ozpin shook his head, struggling weakly to get out of Emma’s grip, “I don’t deserve it. I failed him! It doesn’t matter what I do, there is no way to win, she is a lawyer herself. No matter what I do she’ll always win.” He could barely breathe, it hurt so much, “And do I love him so much, but that wasn’t enough, I still lost him to her.” 

Ozpin knew she must be horribly confused and he felt even worse for having brought this all on her, and he hated himself that much more for doing so. 

“Please.” Emma said as she pulled away, “At least let me help you inside?” 

Just as she said this, just as she helped him stand on his feet, the sound of a car arriving down the dirt road came, stopping right beside Gracie. A door slammed shut. 

“ _Ozpin_!” 

Oz froze at the familiar sound of Glynda calling out to him, her voice laced with a fear he’s never heard before. 

He turned, wondering exactly how she had found him and his heart stopped. He felt the bottom drop out of his stomach, because there standing on the other side of the car was Oscar. 

His brain stuttered for a moment; he could do nothing but stare in shock, every part of him going on pause as he tried to process what he was seeing.

_Oscar?_

A million thoughts ran through his mind. How was Oscar here? How was he standing before him when the last Ozpin ever saw of him, his son was being dragged away? Had he finally cracked and lost his mind? If so, then what was Glynda doing here and… Mr. Winchester? He felt like his brain was splitting in two trying to make sense of it.

“Oz?” 

He felt his heart skip a beat, because the last time he heard that, the guards were dragging him away while the doors slammed shut in his face. 

“ _Oscar_?” His voice was barely above a whisper. 

Whatever spell that they had been under was broken in that moment. 

Oz felt an incredible and intense emotion engulf him. He felt overjoyed but dejected. One part of him wanted to run straight towards his son and yet the other wanted to keep his distance, out of fear. Fear for Oscar’s safety, and fear of his own destroyed heart, fear of letting him in again, only to have him get ripped away. 

As all this swirled around in his head, Oz could feel his body, slowly becoming heavier and heavier. His knees shook and he could hardly get a good breath into his lungs. 

Then his vision spotted and he felt himself falling, but he didn’t faceplant like he thought he would. He blinked the dots from his eyes and saw that Oscar was infinitely closer to him then where he had been. He felt Oscar’s nails digging into his elbows as he kept him from falling, the pain from those nails was enough to solidify that this could very well be real. Because he knew what physical pain felt like, and not even his mind, as broken as it was, would be able to make this up. 

But then again his mind did have a habit of tricking him into feeling things that weren’t there.

A wet chuckle escaped him, and he tried to cup Oscar’s face, to wipe away those tears that were currently cascading down those pale cheeks, but his legs could no longer hold him up, and he fell to the ground, but even still, Oscar didn’t let go of his elbows. 

Oz managed to lift his arms and grip Oscar’s shoulders tightly, his eyes wondering over his boy’s appearance. 

It was clear, by the pale skin and sunken cheeks that not only had Oscar not gotten any natural sunlight in months but that he also lost a disturbingly large amount of weight since the last time he saw him. 

Then his eyes stopped at the neck, and he choked. 

Because there, going from one side to the other, were several bandages. He felt bile raised to his throat, his chest felt like it was going burst from the guilt that engulfed him, the agony that consumed him as he gazed at that scar, knowing that his worst nightmare had come true. 

He feared so much of the things Salem would do to his boy, knowing the abuse would be nearly as bad, if not _worse_ then she ever did to him. Oz knew Oscar would have scars, mental and physical ones. 

But seeing those bandages on Oscar’s neck, knowing there was a scar there, filled him with such a hatred, because this was Salem’s way of getting back at him, a way to show him without actually being anywhere near him, that this was all his fault. 

His vision blurred as tears swelled and dripped down his face. “ _Oscar…_ ” He murmured again, the action alone made Oscar’s face crumble into pieces. 

“ _Dad…_ ”

Ozpin sucked in a cold breath of air. His mind seemed to be at war with itself, trying to figure out between reality and the disillusioned fog he found himself in after months of neglecting his health. The fingers digging into his arms, keeping him upright, felt so real, but Oscar seemed both far away and too close, the view of the farm and the dirt pathways swimming as if they were underwater.

So that made him question the realness. Oscar’s presence.

And yet at the same time, he found himself not caring about the realness of this whole thing. The sight of Oscar, even if imaginary, was enough to soothe the pain in his heart. It was enough for him to take in a deep breath for the first time in months, for the weight on his chest to grow the slightest bit lighter.

Until, all at once, the stress and terror he’d been holding onto for so long crashed into relief. The tension he’d carried with him for weeks and weeks. At last, it all came dropping away. The fatigue took over. His swimming and blackening vision started to go more and more.

Until, at last, his body gave out completely.

“Oscar, he’s going to—!”

“I have him,” he heard Oscar say. 

Ozpin slumped forward, vaguely aware of the arms around him. Vaguely aware of the cold air sinking into his skin and the dirt resting against his fingers.

Vaguely aware of Oscar’s warmth as he held him as the last rays of light slipped away. He caught Oscar’s gladdened, watery hazel eyes as he slipped under, watching his mouth move but not really hearing him. 

“I’ve got you, Oz. I’m not going to leave you.”

Ozpin felt the slightest bit of amusement in his chest, because he felt like he ought to be the one saying those words, since he was the adult, after all, but Oscar's words managed to give him a comfort he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

The last he saw was Oscar, and Glynda and Emma just beyond him, staring down worriedly at him. And the last he heard were the hurried mutterings for an ambulance and Oscar saying that everything would be okay.

* * *

It was rather dark in the room. Ozpin stirred at the sound of voices. Some familiar —others not so much— they all seemed to blur together in a frantic frenzy of sounds. 

"Sorry, kid, it’s time for you to go back to your room."

"I just need to be with him, please! I don't want him to wake up alone—!"

"You can come first thing tomorrow morning once you’ve eaten."

"I can't leave him! I promised I wouldn’t, I have to be here!" 

Ozpin cracked his dry eyes open. The blurriness couldn’t seem to leave him no matter how many times he blinked. But he could make out tan skin and dark hair among deep blue hospital uniforms.

"O-Oscar," he rasped out, voice raw. His throat felt so dry, he felt like it would start bleeding if he raised his voice any higher. “ _Oscar_?”

The room seemed to pause.

The blurriness went away a bit, until he could finally make out more of his face—Oscar's dear face. Freckles and bright, hazel eyes, which glistened with tears. 

" _Dad_..." he choked out

Energy shot through him. All at once, Ozpin tried to get up. 

"Easy there," a nurse said. "Please, you should try take it slow--"

He reared on the nurse, snapping, "No!"

He forced himself out of bed, yanking out several tubes. It stung, but he didn’t care. He pushed himself onto his feet, stumbling a little, battling back fatigue and dizziness. 

The nurse warned again, reaching out to try and stop him, "Sir, please remain in—”

"No! Let him go!" he cried, finally reaching Oscar. "Please, he’s my _son_! Let him go!" 

"Sir, please—"

"DON'T TAKE HIM AWAY FROM ME AGAIN!" Ozpin snapped venomously, making everyone in the entire room freeze. 

Even Oscar froze in that moment, clearly taken aback by his outburst. 

But he couldn't bear it. He couldn't watch Oscar be taken away again. Not with the memory of the courtroom burned into his skull. Not when the nightmare of Oscar being ripped from his arms haunted his dreams. And he was certain they would continue to do so for years down the line. 

He was helpless to do anything before, he wasn’t going to let anyone take his son away from him, not when he just got him back. 

Maybe the desperate and rabid look in his eyes was enough to convince the nurse because she backed away. Even the doctor who had been carrying Oscar out of the room took a pause. It's long enough for Oscar to break his hold. He dashed forward on trembling legs to Ozpin and _leaped_ into his arms.

Oz held him tightly, crushing the boy to his chest and pressing his forehead against the top of Oscar’s head "Let him stay with me," Ozpin demanded. " _Please, let him stay_."

That seemed to be enough. The doctor nodded and Ozpin finally lost his war with dizziness. His knees buckled, but luckily the nurse was there to catch him and put him back into bed.

Tubes restored, he collapsed back onto the pillows, Oscar sitting in the seat beside him, grasping one of his bandaged hands tightly. 

"I won't leave you." 

He knew it to be true. The only way they’d be separated again was if the gods themselves did it. 

"I know," Ozpin croaked, feeling hot tears slip down his face. But there was still a small part of him that feared it, that shuttered and made his heart race at the very thought of Oscar being taken from him again. 

Oscar must have been feeling the same fear because he let out a loud sniff, and his body shook a little as he sat there, and Oz knew what Oscar needed because he needed it too. They didn’t really get the opportunity to do so because of his body failing him, but now they were here. 

They were together.

Ozpin wasted no time in holding out his arms, in silent invitation. Oscar didn’t hesitate, not for a second. He practically dove into Ozpin’s waiting arms, being mindful of the cords that were hooked up to the IV bag that was currently giving him the liquids he had denied himself for two months straight. 

And Oz held him, almost crushing Oscar tightly to him, as the realization of everything that’s happened since they’ve been apart finally hit him at full force. “I’m sorry.” His body began shaking now, and he bit his lower lip to keep a sob from escaping, “I’m so sorry.”

Oscar pressed himself further into his chest, “It’s not your fault.” 

“Yes, it is.” His hands twitched and his fingers dug into Oscar’s clothing, which Oz just realized was the same hospital gown that he wore. He closed his eyes then and swallowed the lump in his throat, “Look at what she did to you. How pale you are, the amount of weight you’ve lost, the bandages on your neck…” Oscar flinched at the mention of them and shrunk into himself. Oz sucked in a sharp breath and pressed his lips to the crown of Oscar’s head and rocked them, “Everything she did to you, was because of me. How is none of this my fault?” 

“Because it’s _not_. You didn’t do any of this to me.” Oscar’s voice sounded small but loud in the quiet room, “All of this is _her_ fault. _Everything_."

Ozpin didn’t know if he entirely believed that, but he decided that it would be best for Oscar to not dwell on such things, instead he focused on the fact that Oscar was here, that he was right here in his arms and wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon. “How… How are you? I see you're wearing a gown, are you—?”

Oscar adjusted himself a little and tucked his head further under Oz’s chin. “Yeah, Glynda had them take me when they placed you on a gurney. I’m okay… just dehydrated? Um, starved, kinda? They treated my— uh _neck…_ Cleaned it, wrapped it, stuff like that. I’m… okay though.” 

Oz let out a small puff of air, “Oscar, we _both_ know that neither of us are okay.” 

“I was actually a lot worse before but Prim helped me by getting me food and changing my bandages.”

Ozpin felt his heart skip a beat. He turned his head and stared in disbelief at Oscar, “Wait, _Primmy_ helped you?” 

Oscar smiled and Oz could tell that was probably the first time a genuine smile spread across Oscar’s features, one that truly reached his eyes. “Yeah! I was surprised too. At first she believed every word Salem told her but after a while something changed and then she started bringing me food and taking care of me and it was even her idea to escape.”

He couldn’t process what he was hearing, he truly couldn’t believe that one of his daughters actually looked at the words Salem spoke about him and realized they were lies. And it was Primmy no less, the youngest of his daughters, the little girl he used to hold in his arms so many times as they watched countless sunrises. 

And to know that she had been there for Oscar, to know that his son wasn’t truly alone in that horrible place, was such a relief that he tucked his chin back onto Oscar’s head and let out his first real chuckle. “I’m glad, I’m so very glad that she was there for you. Whenever I thought of… the things she was doing to you—” And just like that the pain was back. His chest hurt as he recalled the various times he’d be awake from a nightmare, dreaming of these horrendous things Salem was doing to his son. “I could barely breathe.”

Oscar wrapped arms tighter around his thin waist. “Apparently, there were a lot of things you couldn’t do, Oz. Are you… are _you_ okay? What happened to your hands?” He pulled back a little, eyeing Ozpin’s bandaged palms and fingers.

Ozpin raised one of his hands, flexing his fingers inward. “I’d nearly forgotten about these… I burned them. There was… I wasn’t in the right state of mind. After you left. I…”

Oscar sighed, plopping down into the space between them, “I… might understand a small bit about that… For a while, I was talking to a scribble drawing of you on the wall.”

Ozpin’s eyes widened. “Oh… _Oh_ _dear_.”

“Yeah…” Oscar laughed and shrugged like it was no big deal, but Ozpin felt a great concern come over him.

“What did… what did she do to you, exactly? If you want to talk about it?”

Oscar sent him an uncertain glance, an unspoken pain in his eyes. “I’d… rather not… Not right now.”

“Perhaps you ought to lie down. Go back to your hospital room—?”

“ _No!_ ” Oscar jumped. He shook himself. “I mean— I just…! Well…” He drew his knees to his chest. “I just… don’t really want to be alone right now…”

Ozpin connected quite a bit with that sentence. But it made him no less worried about what Oscar had gone through. Given his paleness, and his thinness, it made it clear he hadn’t been in sunlight in a long time. He hadn’t been _outside_ in a long time. Given his tenseness whenever he heard a noise beyond the door, Ozpin was sure he hadn’t been around _people_ in a long time, either. 

“I understand. Then you were alone, too. Just… not by choice...”

Oscar sent him a sad stare. “Glynda told me a little bit. Not everything, but… Enough. And I already had an idea of what… well, what might’ve happened.”

“Are you angry with me?”

“No, just… I’m not sure. I was scared for you, Oz. More than I was scared for me. Even now. I mean. It’s like you said. Neither of us are okay.”

“I know,” Ozpin murmured, looking away.

Oscar sighed again. “But I’m glad. Even if I am kinda mad at you for doing this to yourself. I’m glad I’m here. I’m glad I’m back with you, for however long it lasts.”

“Don’t say that—”

“But it’s true. We don’t know how much time we have until… until she—” Oscar furrowed his brow, an anger on his face that Ozpin had never seen on him before.

“Oscar.” He reached out, grasping Oscar’s hand in his bandaged one. “Don’t think about that right now. For now, we can just… focus on being in each other’s presence. With whatever time we do have.”

Oscar searched his face for a long moment, his own twisting with pain and tears, “I didn’t get to say this before. But I love you, Dad.”

Ozpin closed his eyes at the declaration and swallowed, gently he brought Oscar back down into another tight and tender embrace. This time, Oscar curled against his side, burying his face into his shoulder. “I love you too, my son. With all I have.” 

Before they’d realized it, tire and fatigue once more crashed over them, and they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PhantomDragon321: *dances to the angst* OUR BOIS ARE BACK TOGETHER!!!!! WHOOP WHOOP!!!!
> 
> TheAngelofFate— YEEEEEE THEY ARE!!!! I’ve been WAITING for this chapter for so long! The reunion! With our lads!!! Filled with angst and tears and hugs galore! I will admit that I hit a bit of a block with this one but Snom as always help me out cause she’s awesome like that! 
> 
> Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated down in the comments down below and we will see you all later


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